That Kind of Happy
by JamiW
Summary: Companion piece to "The Improbable Truth", from a BA perspective. I don't think you have to read that one to get this one, but if you haven't, it might make you wonder what's going on with Logan.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Coincides with "Improbable Truth", chapter 13 / show timeline is during "Betrayed".**

* * *

**Eames POV**

* * *

I needed to get away, so I used coffee as an excuse.

"I'll be right back," I mumbled in the direction of my partner as I got up from my chair.

As usual – or rather, as usual of _late_ – he responded immediately.

"Everything alright? Do you need…"

"I said I'll be right back," I repeated, this time more firmly. I held his gaze for a moment just to make sure he got the point – _that I don't want him to follow me_ – and then I turned and headed for the break room.

I'm telling you…his over-eager kowtowing is about to drive me out of my mind.

And I know…it's kind of my fault that he's acting like this.

Well, in a back-asswards kind of way.

Because I'm pissed at him.

I mean really _really_ pissed.

And he knows it because I certainly haven't been quiet about it.

So this is him, trying to make things right.

As far as I'm concerned, if he wanted things to be right between us, then he never should've done what he did.

That stupid undercover.

What was he thinking, keeping something like that from me?

Did he think I wouldn't be able to keep the secret?

Every time I think about it, I get mad. I can't help it.

I filled my mug with coffee and then dumped in a pile of sugar, something proportionate to my growing ire.

As I started stirring, I looked up and caught Logan's reflection in the mirror that hangs behind the counter. He's standing in the doorway, making no move to come into the room.

And he's looking at my ass.

Curious.

Because Logan might have the rep of being a ladies' man, but I think it must be an exaggeration because I've never seen any real proof.

And yeah, he likes to tease me a lot, but in spite of that being a tell-tale adolescent sign of interest, I know he doesn't think about me like _that_.

Which makes it fun to tease him back because I know he doesn't have any expectations.

"Are you checking me out?" I asked him, doing my best to hide my amusement.

"What?" he asked as he raised his eyes to meet my gaze in the reflection. His look alone was guilty enough and then he had to start stammering. "No. No...no."

_God, he sounds like Bobby. _

Maybe I just have that effect on men.

I took a little bit of mercy on him and paused for an extra moment, allowing him a second to compose himself as I added more sugar to my cup, and then I turned around and raised my eyebrow in question.

"Okay, yeah I was," he reluctantly admitted. "But not because of why you think."

_Yeah, because I thought you were truly ogling my ass_, I thought cynically.

Although wouldn't that be fitting?

I _want_ Bobby to check me out and yet Logan's the one who does it.

"It's not because I'm so hot that you can't keep your eyes off of me? Thanks, Logan. You know how to make a girl feel special," I joked.

"No, it's…I mean, you _are_, it's just..."

He trailed off uncertainly and once again I took pity on him.

"What's going on with you?" I asked easily. "You're usually so much better at verbal sparring."

"It's…see…I met this woman."

Ah…

Which in no way explains why he was looking at my butt and yet it's still an interesting tidbit. And I like how he's so cute and flustered about it. It makes me even less inclined to believe the Casanova moniker.

"First line of every tragedy ever written," I said. My intent was to offer some empathy, but his expression remained stoic.

_Not in a joking mood about the new girl,_ I decided.

"And every fairy tale, too," I added.

"Nice save."

"I try. So…you met a woman. Is that why you didn't sleep all weekend?"

Because I might not be an expert at reading him but he's got dark circles under his eyes and his color's a little pale.

"Wheeler's been talking to you, too?"

"No, but I've got eyes, Logan. Does she look as exhausted as you, or did you spend your weekend only wishing you weren't alone?"

"She's pretty tired," he replied, finally relaxing just a little. "And again…it's not exactly what you think, but I can't get into it."

Hmm…not what I think. So…they're not sleeping together.

Yet another bit of proof that he's not just a dog. Not that I _need_ proof, but still…

"Okay, well…then tell me how this mystery girl relates to you checking out my ass."

As I said the words _you checking out my ass_, Bobby walked into the room. I knew he was in the doorway without even looking in that direction and I was simultaneously irritated and amused by his timing.

Would he be jealous of Logan?

Interesting possibility.

And maybe if he actually considers that someone else might be interested in me then he'll get off his ass and do something about it.

Because I'm not about to make any kind of move.

Like I said, I'm still pissed.

But it sure would be nice to know that it's not just me who's having inappropriate and unpartnerly thoughts. I think that's compounding my annoyance.

The idea that maybe it's only _me_.

I finally glanced over to where Bobby lingered in the doorway. His eyes were darting back and forth between me and Logan and he kept shifting his weight uncomfortably.

_Good_, I thought. He _did_ hear the comment and he doesn't look happy about it.

He managed to mumble his way through a sentence or two, letting me know that Rodgers was ready for us, so I told him I'd be out in a minute.

Meaning…_leave me and Logan alone and I'll catch up_.

"Yeah, okay. Um…sure," he responded, but then he still didn't leave, and I know for a fact that it's killing him not to ask any questions, but he finally turned around and walked away.

"You could've eased his mind," Logan said. "Brought him into the conversation so that he doesn't think I'm in here hitting on you."

His astute observation caught me by surprise.

Am I being that obvious?

Does Logan really know that I've been waiting for years for Bobby to pull his head out of his ass and see that I'm…that I…that I have feelings for him?

"I could've," I retorted dismissively. "But it's none of his business if you're hitting on me."

My lame attempt at denial.

He snorted out a sound of disbelief, and then after I pointed out that he hadn't bothered to correct the misconception either, he got serious on me.

"The battle going on between the two of you is between the two of you. But for the record…you know, sometimes we do things that we think are the exact right thing to do. And then we find out later that maybe we were wrong. But that doesn't mean our heart wasn't in the right place."

_There are many sides to Mike Logan,_ I decided. He's a lot deeper than anyone gives him credit.

"Are you getting philosophical on me?"

"I'm saying…either forgive him and move on, or…just move on."

Move on. Now there's a humorous idea.

As if I could ever just _move on_ from Bobby.

"Of course I forgive him. But it doesn't make me less mad about what happened," I replied, and I know I sound kind of snappish, but I can't help it. This whole situation is so messed up.

I mean, I thought we were so close to having…_some_thing.

And then he went to Tates, and got suspended…then he stopped talking to me, come to find out it was all because of that ridiculous undercover…

But how long am I going to punish him for his mistakes?

How long is enough?

He's apologized. He's promised it'll never happen again.

What more do I expect from him?

And how much time is he willing to spend in the dog house before _he_ gives up and moves on?

"I need to go," I said suddenly, feeling the need to go see Bobby and ease his mind about what was going on in here. "So hurry up and tell me why you were scoping me out."

Finding out that Logan wants to buy clothes for his new girlfriend was about the last thing in the world I was expecting.

And once we cleared up the fact that he wasn't going for lingerie, I couldn't help but look at him a little differently.

What a sweet and considerate and _non_-player thing to do.

As I looked at him in this new light, I saw indecision cross his face.

"Um…never mind. It was a bad idea anyway," he said dismissively, and as much as I'd like to stay here and quiz him a little while longer, I really need to go. Bobby's probably already created an alternate universe in his mind, one that has me quitting the NYPD and running off with Logan to Barbados to live happily ever after.

The really pathetic thing is that I'm not sure which would upset him more…me leaving the NYPD or me hooking up with Logan.

I headed for the door, but the sad expression on Logan's face gave me pause.

"Are you okay?" I asked him.

"I'm fine. Go. Rodgers doesn't like to wait."

I watched him for another beat and then I went out into the hall.

Bobby was loitering about ten feet away. And by loitering, I mean he was intensely pacing a five-foot path.

"Okay, let's go," I told him casually as he looked at me with concern.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?"

"You and Logan…"

So he _is_ a little jealous.

I like that.

What can I say? I'm a girl. We like knowing when a guy's interested, and up to this point, Bobby's thrown me very few hints, so I'm going to cling to each and every one.

"We were talking about his new girlfriend," I explained.

And yeah, I know. I could've kept him on the hook longer.

But he's dealt with enough game-playing in his lifetime. What he needs from me is straight-shooting. That's not to say I'm going to cough up more than he asks, but I _will_ be honest with him.

"He's got a girlfriend?"

"Sounds like it. I don't know details. Maybe you should ask him. He looks like he could use a friend."

"Me?" he asked in surprise. "But I'm not…"

"A guy? One who knows how to listen without casting judgment? Yeah, you are," I said firmly. "It won't kill you to socialize once in a while."

"I socialize," he countered indignantly. "I had a beer with Logan two weeks ago. But we're not…"

"Uh huh," I interrupted. "And before that? Seriously, Bobby. When was the last time you did something with anyone outside of work? More than just one beer. Aside from me, I mean."

"Um…I…well…"

"My point exactly."

I let the matter drop and didn't bring it up again until Friday.

Throughout the course of the week, Bobby and I almost found our rhythm again as we solved the case of the missing trainer and his mistress.

And I'll admit it.

It was mostly because I quit eye-rolling and smart-mouthing and instead made an effort to let bygones be bygones.

And as much as I like the fact that things are more normal at work again, I'm not crazy about the idea that everything else is the same, too.

I mean, it's all just status quo.

I'm his partner.

Period.

Okay, not period.

I'm also his friend.

But still…that's it, and I don't _want_ that to be it.

"What do you think it is?"

"What?" I asked, Bobby's voice barely permeating my ill-advised thought process.

"Logan. In Ross' office. Again," he said quietly, with an expression of mischief and curiosity and…something else. Something that does a number on me.

"You're supposed to know the answer," I reminded him. "Weren't you going to catch up with him and be his friend?"

"Yeah, but…"

"He looks like hell, Bobby. He's got something going on, and who's he supposed to talk to?"

"His new girlfriend?"

"Maybe she's the problem," I suggested, although even as I said the words, I don't think that's the case.

But if it is and she hurts him, I'm going to hunt her down and make her pay.

"I don't think so," he said speculatively. Then he flashed me a suggestive look, waggling his eyebrows as he added, "He looks tired, but happy, you know?"

No. I don't know.

Because I'm not that kind of happy.

I'd _like_ to be.

The kind of happy that comes from extreme and utter sexual gratification.

But let's face it.

I haven't been that kind of happy in years.

Ever, maybe.

"Another reason for the two of you to hang out," I said as I reached for the file on Skip Lowe, our latest case, and I made of point of opening it up. Because I can't look Bobby in the eye while I say this. "You can live vicariously through him while he tells you about his newfound sex life."

Bobby made some kind of sound…a strangled snort of surprise and maybe embarrassment, and it was all I could do _not_ to look because I really want to see the expression on his face, but I kept my focus on the file.

"What are you trying to say, Eames?" he asked at last. "That I don't have a sex life?"

_Please God, don't let him have a sex life_, I prayed silently.

Because if I find out that he's been hiding a girlfriend from me like he hid that undercover…well, that just might cause me to pull my gun on him and even though I'm annoyed with him, I still don't want to shoot him.

Although if he _is _schtupping someone, all bets are off.

I finally brought my eyes up to his and I found him watching me with amusement, like he's waiting for me to challenge his statement.

So I did.

"Do you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him as I leaned back in my chair. "Because I don't know when you'd find the time."

"How long does it take?" he replied with a grin.

"Depends on whether or not you're doing it right."

"Oh, I do it right," he answered, and dear God what the hell have I ventured into here because his tone was low and suggestive and his eyes are still locked on mine and I'm tingling from head to toe just from this unexpectedly salacious conversation.

Before I could respond, Logan's voice came booming through Ross' closed office door.

"…_the woman you called in a special favor for - one you used to **fuck** - was a murderer!"_

"Ooh…ouch," I said quietly. It's not hard to imagine what Ross' face looks like right about now.

Red. Very red.

"I can't believe he just said that," Bobby commented as he turned and looked in the direction of our boss' office.

"I'm telling you…he's not himself," I said pointedly. "So…"

"Yeah, okay."

"I'll get coffee," I offered as the door came open and Logan entered the squad room and then slammed the door closed behind him. "You…"

I gestured towards Logan and Bobby nodded at me as I got up and headed for the break room.

He'll talk to him and make sure everything's alright.

And me…I'm going to fix some coffee and replay Bobby's words in my head.

_Oh, I do it right._

I bet he does.

But was he _really_ flirting with me? Because that has to be the most suggestive thing he's ever said to me.

And the visual that goes along with the remark…whew. I'm not sure how I'm going to be able to get any work done today.

Or _any_ day, until I manage to verify that statement for myself.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Still feeling an anticipatory buzz from the provocative nature of my conversation with Eames, I watched her walk away and then shifted my focus to Logan, who had just taken a seat at his desk.

_Be his friend,_ Eames said to me.

Surely he has better candidates.

Although maybe not. And he does look like hell, she was right about that.

So, I'll give it a shot. At the very least, my effort will make her happy, right?

And at best, maybe he'll become someone I can talk to. I mean, about things like Eames. Because I can't very well talk to her about _her_, can I?

And I'd love to get someone else's opinion about what's going on between us.

_Nothing's going on_, my mind supplied. _She's still mad._

I paused and thought about that for a moment.

She is a _little_ mad, I think. But not nearly as much as she was before.

And her question about my sex life…is it just me or was she holding her breath, waiting for my answer?

I never really said yes or no, but then we got into the whole_ how much time does it take_ thing and she looked so…gut-wrenchingly pretty. I wanted to offer to show her, right then and there, on top of my desk.

And I know.

I'm not supposed to think about her like that, but I can't help it. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes lit up and it made me push the limits, throwing out that declaration that I do it right.

Because I want to be able to have these kind of conversations with her.

I want us to be playful and flirtatious. I need to know that she's _there_ with me before I try to…well, before I make any effort to move things along.

Because honestly, after the undercover, I was just scared to death that she was going to request a new partner. If that had happened…I don't know. I don't know where I'd be right now. In a very bad place, I'm sure.

So I had to make _that_ part of us right first. I had to try to get us back to where we were before Tates. And I think we're there now.

So maybe it's about time for me to let her know how I really feel.

_Right, Goren_, my inner voice said mockingly. _Because as soon as you tell her, she's going to throw herself at your feet. _

Please.

I'll be lucky if she doesn't draw her gun.

And then ask for a new partner.

Shit.

Would she do that? Would she leave me if I clue her in to the fact that I'm in love with her?

Maybe. Because if she doesn't feel the same, it would be awkward for her, right?

Uncomfortable.

So maybe I shouldn't say anything.

_But she's the one who turned a conversation about Logan's sex life into a discussion about mine_, I reminded myself.

So maybe I just need to quit thinking about the fact that I'm in love with her and focus on spending more time getting to know her, on a more personal level. Give it time to evolve naturally between us.

Content with my plan for the time being, I got up from my desk and wandered over towards Logan.

"Are you trying to take my place?" I asked him as he quickly stashed a photograph underneath the bevy of papers that littered his desk.

"With what?" he responded, and as much as I wanted to ask him about the picture, instead I stuck to my task at hand.

"That's twice this week you've been in Ross' office with the door closed. And not that I was trying to listen or anything, but…you were yelling pretty loud."

"So you heard?"

"I couldn't make anything out," I admitted, and then I smirked and added, "Well, I made one word out, but…"

I trailed off and couldn't help but smile as I thought again about Eames' comment that was prompted by Logan's outburst.

_Live vicariously through him…_

Huh.

I don't _want_ to do that.

I want to have my own sex life.

With her.

"I think we need to get a beer again," I continued. "Soon. What are you doing tonight?"

"I can't tonight," he said immediately and normally his decline might have been a hint for me to back off, but then he added, "But thanks. Maybe some other time."

He looked like he was thinking about going back to work, and I know that Eames is going to ask me what I found out, and I really don't want to disappoint her, so I pushed forward.

"Eames said you met someone."

"Uh huh. So how are things between you two?" he asked, taking me by surprise with the deftness with which he changed the subject.

And with the topic itself.

Does he just mean us, as partners?

"I guess better," he continued. "Since you're willing to sneak out for the night and have a beer."

_Apparently not just as partners,_ I decided. So what makes him think there's anything more to us than work?

"Sneak out? That would imply that she has some kind of expectation," I said evasively.

What does he know?

Or what does he _think_ he knows?

Because I've never said a word to him about my feelings for Eames and yet he's acting like…like…I don't know. Like we're dating or something.

"Doesn't she?" he asked leadingly.

"What are you asking me?"

And I know I look guilty.

And I _shouldn't_ look guilty because there's nothing between us and yet I can't help it.

I'm breaking out in a cold sweat over the possibility that he can read my mind.

"Nothing," he said with a casual shrug.

"So when do I get to meet this woman you're seeing?" I posed, trying to put the focus back where it belongs. On him.

"Um…I don't know."

"Do you ever let her out of the bedroom?"

"On weekends and holidays," he joked, and he looked like maybe he was going to say more, but then I heard Eames from across the room.

"Bobby, we've got another body," she said. "A woman this time, but she was killed in the same manner, and her toddler is our only witness."

I gave Logan a nod and then went back to my desk, grabbing my jacket from the back of my chair. I noticed that Eames stopped to talk to Logan and I strained my ears to hear.

Something about a fairy tale.

And he mentioned that it's only been five days.

_Sounds like she might know more about the new girlfriend than I do. _

And why does that bother me so much?

_Because if there are going to be personal-life discussions going on, I want to be involved_, I thought. I want to be a part of every aspect of her life and yet it seems she and Logan have a close bond. Closer than mine and hers?

"Wait, I don't need to hear the details of your sex life," I heard her say, and I relaxed marginally.

Because she _did_ ask about my sex life. That has to mean something.

What would she have done if I'd said that I _do_ have one?

Or if I'd said the truth, and admitted that it's been years.

_If I'd gone with the latter, she probably would've looked at me with pity_, I decided.

I wonder how long it's been for her?

Days? Weeks? Months?

I'd prefer years, but I guess I don't have any say in the matter. Although maybe one of these days, I'll figure out a way to work it into the conversation.

_So…Eames…when was the last time you had sex?_

Yeah, that'd go over well.

She'd probably shoot me and call it a day.

"Ready?"

Eames' voice, directly behind me, startled me out of my lecherous thoughts. I whirled around and looked at her, surely with a guilty expression on my face, but she just looked up at me expectantly.

"Bobby?"

"Yeah…um…yeah," I managed to say. Her close proximity is throwing me because it's usually me who invades her space, not the other way around, and when I do it, I'm prepared for it and able to keep a tight rein on myself.

But her unexpected nearness along with the lewd nature of my thoughts combined to make me temporarily lose my handle on my self-restraint.

Which means I looked at her chest.

I know. It's a big no-no. And I've been really, _really_ good about not doing it.

Or at least, not doing it when she's looking at me.

And yet at this moment, I couldn't stop myself.

_And_ I couldn't stop the unbelievably inappropriate question that popped into my mind:

_What color bra is she wearing? _

Some people might think she's a white cotton kind of girl, but I don't know…my money's on something more along the lines of black lace. A hidden reminder that she's a woman despite working in what's traditionally considered a man's world.

_She doesn't have to remind **me** that she's a woman. _

My lustful gaze didn't last more than a split second, but as I brought my eyes back up to where they belong, she was smirking at me.

She's…amused that I looked? Or she _likes_ that I looked? Or…what?

I'm not sure, but maybe I won't try so hard _not_ to look and see where that gets me.

"We have to actually _leave_ if we want to go to the crime scene," she stated, gesturing towards the elevator.

"After you," I said solicitously. She rolled her eyes at me and then started walking and I fell in step behind her.

_Logan was looking at her butt the other day_, I reminded myself. Why? And she didn't tear him to shreds about it. Why not?

Yeah, he and I need more than two minutes of chatting time in the office.

"So what'd you find out?" Eames asked me once we were on the elevator.

"Next to nothing. I only had a minute before you came to get me."

"How long does it take?"

"Are we back to that again?" I asked playfully.

She smirked again and we stood in awkward silence for a moment as we rode down to the parking garage, and I was suddenly hit with an overwhelming feeling of emotion.

Of gratitude.

Because she didn't walk away from me when times got tough.

When I screwed up.

Because yeah, I know I screwed up. I should've told her. I honestly thought I was protecting her, but in hindsight, I can completely understand why she was so upset with me.

But still…she stayed. How many people can I say that about?

"Um…you know, I'm not sure if I ever really said it right, but…I…" I began ineloquently, and then the elevator came to a stop on the second floor and two officers joined us.

I clammed up and looked at the floor, but I could feel the heat of her gaze on me, and I know she's dying to ask me what I was going to say, but as usual, she doesn't question the fact that I want to wait for privacy.

We got to the parking garage and the two officers got off ahead of us and then we made our way to the SUV.

"So," she said as she pulled the keys from her pocket. "You can't _say_ it right, but you know you _do_ it right. I don't know, Bobby."

I barked out a laugh at her unexpected tease and she glanced over her shoulder at me with a smile on her face and oh my God, this _right here_ is what I've been waiting for.

This perfectly-in-sync feeling.

"Are you doubting my sexual prowess, Eames?" I replied bravely, hoping to provoke a reaction from her.

Because Eames can talk the talk, that's for sure. I've heard her discuss the most kinky of sex acts without batting an eye.

But I think that's only because it's not _personal_. I'm wondering if I can detect a difference in her when I'm talking about me. And at the very least, even if she's never considered me as a potential lover, maybe this'll give her something to think about.

She paused at the driver's side door and looked back to where I was standing, still at the rear of the vehicle.

"Should I?"

"Not unless you like being wrong," I answered with a grin, and then I moved around to the passenger side and got into the SUV.

It was a few more seconds before she opened the door and climbed in, and I'd love to know what she's thinking, but she doesn't say anything. She just put the key in the ignition and then backed out of the parking space.

And then I remembered what I was going to say when we were on the elevator.

Something that needs to be said.

"So anyway, what I was going to say earlier," I said, and then I paused to clear my throat, and to my surprise, she stopped at the garage exit and turned to look at me, presumably content to wait until I've said my piece before she starts driving.

The intensity of her gaze throws me for a moment and then I horrified myself by letting my attention shift to her chest – _again_. While she's looking at me. There's no way she doesn't notice, and this time was even longer than a split second because the way she's angled towards me causes her blouse to bow out slightly and I think I can almost see the edge of her bra and I have to know…white or black?

_For the love of God, I'm fifteen again_, I chastised.

And then I forced my eyes back to hers and she quirks her eyebrow at me, but doesn't change her position, which makes me want to look again.

But I don't.

Because I really need to say what I'm about to say.

Because she stayed.

"I just want to say that…um…I'm sorry," I managed.

"For…"

And I really hate to even bring this up, considering our reconciliation, but I have to let her know what she means to me. Or at least, on one level.

"Tates. The undercover. Not talking to you. And I can't tell you how much I appreciate that you didn't ask for a new partner."

"You…appreciate me," she repeated carefully, and somehow I think now I've made her mad again.

"Yes. I mean, you could've walked away. And you would've been right to."

"Yes," she agreed with a crisp nod.

"And I probably didn't deserve a second chance, but I'm thankful every day that you gave it to me anyway."

She stared at me for so long that I started to fidget. I can't help it.

_What is she thinking? _

"You already apologized," she said at last as she sighed heavily. "You don't have to keep doing it."

"I'm not sure if my sincerity came through. And I was just thinking about where I'd be without you and…I don't know."

"You'd be annoying some other partner."

"Eames," I admonished lightly, because how can she be so flippant about something like that?

"I'm sorry," she replied, shaking her head. "Um…you know, the undercover isn't what pissed me off. It was being kept in the dark."

"I know."

"So don't do it again."

"I won't."

"I need to know that you feel like you can tell me anything. That you _will_ tell me," she said pointedly, and for some reason, I'm starting to feel like she's talking about more than just work.

"I do," I assured her. "I will."

_Anything except the fact that I'm in love with you. _

"Okay. Good."

We spent the rest of that day and the next working our case.

I never mind working on Saturdays because it means I'm with Eames. If I were home, then I'd be alone.

Friday night, I had a dream about her.

I know, big surprise, right?

But it wasn't just an erotic dream. I mean it _was_, but it was more than that.

Oh, and in my dream, she wasn't wearing a white _or_ black bra.

It was red.

And then in Saturday night's dream, she wasn't wearing one at all. She stopped by my apartment with a bottle of wine and a DVD, and then I offered to take her coat so she set down her things and unbelted her coat, pulling apart the two sides to reveal that she was completely naked underneath.

_I want you to show me_, she said to me, sounding like Eames and yet _not_ because as she said the words, she let the coat fall to the floor and then it was just five-foot-two-inches of utter perfection.

_Show you…what?_ was my stammered response.

_You said you do it right. Right? _

Her remark was accompanied by a raised eyebrow and a quirk of her lips and I'm not sure how I managed to _not_ burst into flames on the spot.

Must be because dream me is a lot more suave than real me.

Because what followed…me, _showing_ her…it's the most x-rated dream I've ever had.

When I woke up on Sunday, the image of the two of us together was so vivid in my mind that for a moment, I almost thought it was real.

And I want it to be real so badly…I can't stop thinking about it. It's like Friday's brief foray into flirtation has opened the floodgate.

And after that dream, I'm not sure if I'll be able to look at her without picturing her naked.

I decided this would probably be a good time to have a chat with Logan.

Not because I'm going to admit my feelings for Eames to him, but…I don't know. Maybe he'll inadvertently give me some advice, even without knowing the specifics.

Unfortunately, he didn't answer his phone.

And he never called me back.

So I spent Sunday wishing I were at work.

And rehashing the dream.

I wonder what Eames would say if she knew I was thinking about her like that.

I also wonder if she's as bold and adventurous in the bedroom as she is everywhere else.

That consideration sparked a new round of images.

What _is_ she like in bed?

Vocal?

Demonstrative?

Uninhibited?

And yes, I spent a little time dealing with guilt, too.

Guilt about sexualizing my partner.

I've spent years making the effort to not think about her like that, and now all of a sudden, it's all I can do.

_Although she didn't say anything about me checking out her cleavage_, I reminded myself. And she had to notice. So she doesn't mind me looking? I wonder if she'd mind me touching…

Needless to say, Sunday night was dream-filled as well.

Vibrant, provocative, arousing dreams.

That makes three nights in a row.

Which means three _mornings_ in a row, I awakened to a raging hard-on and a desperate need for release.

Unusual for a man my age, but then again, how many men get to work next to Eames?

_Just me._

When I got to work, I was a mass of nerves, anxious to see my partner.

And yes, I'm trying to call her that in my mind so that I can get my head on straight.

Because picturing her naked _now_ is only going to get me into trouble.

I put my things on my desk and wandered into the break room.

"I can't believe I beat you here," Eames remarked when she saw me. She handed me a cup of coffee and then took a sip from hers.

"I had something to take care of this morning," I said vaguely. "So are you ready to go talk to the headmaster at the preschool?"

"Sure," she agreed easily, and then to my surprise, she looked me over. And I don't mean surreptitiously. I mean, her eyes took a slow walk down to my feet and then inched back up to my face. "Let's do it."

She smiled and brushed past me, where I stood temporarily paralyzed.

What was that look for? Is she purposely toying with me?

No, Eames doesn't play games.

_But she looked_, my mind argued. She _scrutinized_.

Payback for me looking at her last week?

I'm not sure. But it might make for an interesting day.

I ducked my head, smiling as I turned around, and then followed her to the elevator.

Eight hours later, we were back at 1PP.

The case is moving along nicely, but what's even better is that me and Eames seem to be moving along nicely, too.

She's been in a good mood today, which means she treated me to lots of smiles and witty remarks.

And did I mention how she looks?

Snug-fitting jeans and a dark mossy green sweater that clings to her chest. Brown heeled boots and a brown leather coat.

She looks absolutely gorgeous.

I started to tell her that half a dozen times today, but I don't think we're _there_ yet. For now, we're just tossing around some looks and double entendres.

But still…I have a feeling that sweater is going to show up in my dreams tonight. For a little while, anyway. At least until I take it off of her so that I can press my lips against her bare skin…and then I'll peel off those tight jeans and…

"Okay?"

"What?" I asked, nearly bumping into Eames' backside as she came to a stop in the hall.

"I said," she repeated with an amused expression. "Logan's back. Go talk to him and find out why he didn't call you back yesterday."

"Yeah, okay," I agreed.

My compliance was rewarded with a smile, so I smiled back at her and then made my way over to Logan's desk.

"You never called me back," I said, feeling uncharacteristically giddy after the day with Eames.

And I know. We were _working_.

But still…she just…makes me happy.

"Yesterday. Yeah, sorry. I got tied up."

I laughed at his comment and that finally got his attention. He looked up at me curiously and then grinned and said, "Not literally. Although…"

"I don't need to hear it," I interrupted good-naturedly.

"Don't tell me Eames never uses her cuffs on you," he said in a hushed voice, and I nearly choked at the visual that popped into my mind.

Eames, naked under the coat, pulling cuffs from the pocket before disrobing…

Would she put them on me? Or would she want me to put them on her?

"What?" I managed to ask at last as I forced the thought from my mind. Because I'm not about to admit that I'm thinking about her like _that_. Not yet anyway. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, Logan."

"So she does," he said in amusement.

"Eames and I are not sleeping together," I said quietly.

Again, his confidence about the idea that we _are_ is mind-boggling. Is he just perceptive, or am I not nearly as covert as I thought? Or maybe he just likes messing with me and has no clue whatsoever.

"That's because you pissed her off, so she's closed up shop," he stated knowingly. "Maybe you need to romance her to help her get over it."

"Logan, it's not like that. We're not…"

"Every woman likes romance, even if they pretend they don't," he interjected. "So…show up unexpectedly at her apartment. With wine. And flowers. And then apologize again for that asinine top secret undercover. And then…"

His mention of wine sent my mind right back to the dream world, where she'd brought _me_ a bottle of wine…

"Hey, Logan!"

Eames voice broke through my mental re-creation and I glanced at Logan purposefully, hopefully conveying _don't repeat this conversation_, and then I took a step back from his desk.

"I heard you were back in Ross' office this morning," she continued as she approached. "Maybe we need to move your desk in there. You know, to make it more convenient when he wants to chew your ass."

I love her sense of humor. And the easy banter between the two of them might make me jealous if she and I weren't doing as good as we are.

_Might,_ I thought with a silent chuckle. It made me jealous as hell last Monday.

But that was then. And we've come a long way since then.

So maybe Logan has a point. I mean, I don't think I need to apologize to her again, but maybe showing up unexpectedly, during off-hours, with the suggestion of spending some time together…maybe that's a good idea.

Maybe then I can get a feel for the extent of her feelings for me.

Does she want to be more than just colleagues and friends?

Or is her fierce sense of loyalty only because of our close, working relationship?

"Something sordid with the new girlfriend?" I heard Eames ask as I tuned back into their conversation. Logan had his jacket in hand and was heading for the elevator.

"What'd you expect?" he responded. "Sordid's my middle name."

He moved out of sight and I turned to Eames.

"I thought that was _my_ middle name," I joked as we went back to our desks.

"Sordid? Really?"

"Sure. What'd you think?"

"I don't know," she said thoughtfully as she sat down. "Persistent? Relentless? Single-minded?"

"Single-minded?" I repeated. "Me?"

"You're all about the work, Bobby," she said easily, and even though it kind of sounds like an insult, it seems like she doesn't mind it. "You get into a case, and it's all you think about."

She couldn't be more wrong.

Although maybe not about the single-mindedness.

Because all I've been able to think about all day is her.

Naked.

"Maybe once upon a time," I conceded. "But it's not all about the work. I know that."

She held my gaze from across our desks and I'd give just about anything to know what she's thinking.

"Maybe so," she said at last, still staring at me with those luminous tawny eyes.

"Definitely so."

"Then maybe I need to come up with a better middle name," she said, finally easing back in her chair as a smile played on her lips.

"Want to get back with me on that?"

"No," she answered decisively. "I'm starving. Let's get out of here and you can buy me dinner while I come up with a good name for you."

"Are you asking me on a date?" I teased, and to my immense pleasure, she flushed a lovely shade of pink as she dropped her gaze and took her time pulling her purse from the desk drawer.

"No," she responded when she finally brought her eyes back to mine. "I'm giving you the chance to prove to me that you can have a conversation that's not about work."

"Isn't that what we've been doing?"

"While sitting in 1PP," she pointed out.

"Touché," I replied with a grin. "Okay, let's go."

Dinner with Eames.

It certainly won't be our first and yet it definitely feels different.

I don't care if it is Monday night and we're still in work clothes.

It _feels_ like a date.

"I have to warn you," she commented as she breezed past me, heading for the elevator. I quickly followed, not even bothering to pick up my binder from my desk.

_The case will be here tomorrow._

"About…"

She pushed the button for the elevator and then looked at me challengingly and said, "I'm in the mood for filet. You think you accommodate my craving?"

_Mother of God._

"Um…I…" I began, my mouth having gone completely dry.

"Maybe we can go to Spark's?" she asked innocently as the elevator doors opened and she took a few steps inside.

She turned around and looked at me, where I still stood rooted to the spot and then she flashed me a smile that went straight to my groin.

I know what _her_ middle name should be.

Dangerous.

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

**Alex POV**

* * *

"What do you think?"

"If we don't, it'll be late."

"True. And we've been working nonstop for six days straight."

"Uh huh. And it looks like rain."

I looked over at Bobby where he sat in the passenger seat, his face scrunched in concentration as he looked through the windshield, presumably up at the darkening sky.

"Okay, so…"

"Yeah," he agreed.

Which means we just decided that we're going to spend the night in Atlantic City.

And I'm not sure, but I think this is a pivotal moment for us.

Because I think maybe we're talking about more than just a typical overnight stay.

This past week has been…enlightening.

And exciting.

And frustrating.

Maddening.

Scary.

Three steps forward, two steps back.

Okay, so not exactly.

Probably more like five steps forward and one step back.

Last Friday, he threw me with that apology in the parking garage. I'm not sure where it came from because I was _flirting_ with him for God's sake, so what would make him want to dampen the mood like that?

For the first few seconds after he said the words, I was ready to bite his head off, although admittedly it was probably more from disappointment than anger. Because when he stumbled through saying something in the elevator, I thought maybe he was finally going to…I don't know.

Do something.

Ask me out.

Tell me what I mean to him.

_Something_.

But instead he apologized.

And as I stood there staring at him, with my irritation building, it slowly occurred to me that maybe he _was_ doing something, in the best way he knows how.

He's making sure that we're good…as partners. He's making sure I know that his apology is sincere and not simply a reaction to my anger.

And he apparently listened that day in the observation room when I went for the throat because he made a point to tell me that he _appreciates_ me, and that he doesn't know where he'd be without me.

"_You'd be annoying some other partner_," I retorted smartly, but I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth.

As if it would ever be that simple.

He said my name in a quiet voice, almost a whisper, as he looked at me with an expression of rebuke and maybe a little bit of hurt over the idea that I could be so callous.

Of course, I'm _not_ callous.

If he and I weren't partners, I don't know where _I'd_ be. Yet another reason why I was so scared when I learned about the undercover. Because I thought _he_ was treating our partnership with nonchalance and ingratitude.

"_I'm sorry,"_ I responded.

And then we went on to talk about it a little more, and it hit me again that apologizing and discussing it at a time when we aren't angry is actually very smart.

So that was Friday, and I felt like we jumped some sort of hurdle. He promised to talk to me and tell me things.

I'm not sure if it'll be the things I want to hear, but I have to be patient.

We worked all day Friday and Saturday, and it was nice having a shortened weekend because even though I have family obligations from time to time, I'm often alone on the weekends.

Because my family can be a little bit much sometimes, and of course, there's always the questions:

_Are you dating anyone yet? No? Well, that's because you spend too much time at work. When are you going to meet a nice man and settle down? And what about kids, Alex? You're not getting any younger. _

Just the thought of sitting through a family dinner like that had me lying through my teeth to my own mother.

"_I can't tonight, Mom. I'm working."_

"_On Sunday?"_

"_Yeah, you know…big case. Murderers don't take breaks just because it's Sunday."_

She sighed heavily into the phone and then said, "_Alex, you know…you really should…"_

"_Mom, that's Bobby at the door,"_ I interrupted quickly. "_I need to go. Love to Dad, okay?"_

And then I hung up the phone and tossed it onto the coffee table.

Of course, there's no one at the door and I'm _not_ working and Bobby's probably holed up in his own apartment.

_Doing what_, I wondered. I tried to picture him, but it's difficult.

What does he do when he's alone?

That thought brought about an interesting mental picture.

Bobby, sitting on his couch, his head back against the cushion, his eyes closed in concentration while his hand slips inside of his sweatpants…

Wow.

_I need to stop my mind from going down that path_, I decided as I headed for the kitchen to see about some lunch. But I stopped in the doorway as I was once again flooded with the provocative image.

There's no harm in entertaining a fantasy, is there?

What if he were on his couch, touching himself, and thinking about _me_?

And then I showed up at his place?

And then I took over the pleasurable task of running my hand along the length of him? I'd alternate the pressure and speed, determining exactly how to make him moan out my name…Alex, not Eames.

The fantasy was so vivid that I went into the bedroom and let it play out completely.

And I'm not going to go into details, but let's just say that for the next half-hour or so, I became intimately familiar with Dream Bobby.

That night, I thought about him as I went to sleep. And after I was asleep. And then again when I woke up.

The man is like a drug, and I'm an addict waiting to happen.

On Monday morning, I somehow managed to get to work before Bobby, which is highly unusual, so I went into the break room, intent on fixing both of us some coffee.

He came in just as I was ready to go back into the squad room.

And he looked…good enough to eat.

"_I can't believe I beat you here_," I remarked as I handed him his coffee.

"_I had something to take care of this morning_," he replied, and for some reason his cheeks seemed to flush just a little. Interesting. "_So are you ready to go talk to the headmaster at the preschool?"_

"_Sure_," I said, and I have no excuse for what happened next.

I checked him out.

Thoroughly and purposefully, from head to toe.

He was dressed in a dark blue suit with a white shirt and burgundy striped tie.

And let me tell you, he wears it well.

But it's what's _under_ the suit that has my temperature up several degrees above normal, and I can perfectly recall the way his long, graceful fingers stroked my skin.

In my dream, I mean.

I finally managed to return my eyes to his face, and he looked a little surprised by my boldness, but I don't feel bad about it. How many times did I catch him looking at my chest last week?

_Enough to make me choose this tight sweater today_, I thought with a smile.

"_Let's do it,"_ I asserted as I moved past him and headed for the door.

Of course, I'm referencing going to the preschool, but there are so many other things I'd like to do with Bobby…

The day went by quickly, with us working on leads and interviewing suspects.

And flirting with each other.

Sort of.

I'm not sure if it's really flirting or not, but he's been smiling at me a lot. And laughing at my jokes. And _looking_ at me, often times about a foot south of my face.

So when we got back to 1PP and we were playfully going back and forth about Bobby's middle name, it suddenly hit me that I didn't want our time together to be over. I didn't want to go home and throw a frozen dinner in the microwave. I wanted to spend more time with _this_ Bobby.

Which is why I suggested dinner. And yeah, I teased him with that filet mignon comment. I couldn't help myself, considering it was only a week or so ago that Avery's husband Roy made that less-than-subtle analogy. Of course, he was talking about _him_ being filet, which is laughable.

Anyway, I wasn't sure when I said it if Bobby would remember, but the look on his face…he remembered. And I don't know. I think maybe if I _hadn't_ said Sparks…if I'd said _take me back to your place and have your way with me_…maybe he would've said yes.

But I have to be sure.

And as I've said, I'm not making the first move. Well, I mean the first _irrevocable_ move. And if I'm honest, it's not even so much that I'm mad. Because I'm really not anymore.

But I _am_ a little bit insecure. We've worked together for so long…why is it that he's suddenly looking at me differently?

Is it only because I've gotten brave enough to toss about some suggestive remarks?

Or does he really have feelings for me, deeper ones than just as a partner and friend?

I'm not sure. And if I'm not sure, then I can't risk it.

But we went to dinner and had a really nice time. We did talk about the case, but only a little. We mostly talked about my family and then we speculated about Logan.

"_So what happened yesterday? Did he say why he never called?"_

"_He said he got tied up_."

I snorted out an indelicate laugh, which started Bobby laughing, too. He nodded his head and said, "_I know. I teased him about it_."

"_He really likes this girl, doesn't he?"_

"_I think so. But something else is still going on with him. When I went to his desk, he stashed a picture underneath a file so that I wouldn't see."_

"_Him and the girlfriend?"_

"_Maybe. But what's the big deal about keeping it a secret?"_

"_I don't know. Maybe we know her,"_ I posed.

Bobby tilted his head, gazing at me as he considered my remark. I love it when I say something that he finds thought-provoking. He slowly started nodding as a smile spread across his face, "_Yeah, maybe so."_

"_Wheeler?" _I suggested mischievously.

"_She's engaged_," he pointed out.

"_Well, maybe that's why it's a secret_," I said, only by this point, I was laughing again because we both know it's not Wheeler.

And not because of her fiancé or because they're partners, but just because. He was mad at her last week, and he thought she'd ratted him out to Ross, and then earlier, she sent him on his way specifically to meet his girlfriend while she stayed behind to do the paperwork.

"_We should follow him one of these days,_" Bobby suggested, winking at me as he picked up his glass and took a sip.

And man does his wink ever do a number on me.

Really, the whole evening had my insides buzzing pleasantly. It's a heady feeling, being the object of Bobby's focus. At work, he's so often consumed by the case that it used to make me feel secondary. And that's surely what prompted my _I just carry your water_ outburst.

But looking at it rationally, I know that's just _him_. He doesn't think less of me or my ability as a detective. It's just that he concentrates so intently on the clues and the suspects and how to get from fuzzy supposition to solid theory that sometimes it seems like he forgets I'm there.

But he doesn't forget.

He works so brilliantly and effortlessly _because_ I'm there. Because he trusts me to handle everything else that's going on around us and to let him know when he's gone astray and to challenge him to constantly be better.

It's not a matter of him and me.

It's a matter of us.

And Monday night, it almost felt like a different kind of us, because we sat across from each other at the small table for two and we talked and he was attentive and funny and charming…if I weren't already in love with him, that dinner would've sent me well on my way.

Unfortunately, it ended all-too-abruptly when Ross called to alert us of another murder.

We quickly settled the check, which Bobby insisted on paying.

"_You said I had to take you out to dinner, right_?" he reminded me with a rakish grin as he pulled out his wallet. "_And you were supposed to be dubbing me with an insightful middle name."_

I can think of a few.

Erotic.

Seductive.

Kissable.

Any of those would be appropriate.

But of course I chickened out. I've been bold lately, but saying any one of those would just be…too much.

"_I'll have to get back to you,"_ I replied lamely.

_"Are you sure? Because I have one for you."_

He does?

And why does that knowledge send a rush through me, one that quickens my heart rate and flushes my cheeks?

_Just because he has a name for me doesn't mean it's one I'm going to like, _my rational, dubious side had to point out.

"_Well?_" I asked hesitantly.

"_Uh uh. You first."_

I stared at him for a moment, my mind in a vapor lock, but then he put his hand on my back and gestured towards the door.

"_Come on, we'd better go. But we'll come back to this."_

We haven't yet, but maybe tonight we will. Because I'm still dying to know what he thinks my middle name should be.

Although considering we're going to be staying in a hotel in Atlantic City, discussions about names isn't exactly a top priority.

And yet I'm not sure there'll be anything more happening.

Like I said, five steps forward…that was Monday.

Tuesday was one step back.

We caught our killer, who had taken hostages at the preschool. I got the kids to safety while Bobby talked her down. And by talked her down, I mean she was _pointing a gun at him_. I can't say enough how scared I was for him because the woman was completely unstable.

And with me, fear often manifests as anger.

"_Why did you do that?"_ I asked him gruffly once we were headed back to 1PP.

"_Which part?" _

"_She could've killed you,"_ I said sharply.

"_You think I should've handled it differently?"_

And I can hear the irritation in his voice and yet my heart is still pounding so I don't stop.

"_We could've done it together."_

"_You had to get the kids out."_

"_Then I could've handled her."_

"_Then __**you**__ would've had the gun pointed at you_," he replied angrily. "_How is that better, huh? Tell me, Eames, because I'd really like to know how you being in a dangerous situation is any better than me being in one."_

_Because it's __**you**__,_ I wanted to say. _Because I love you_.

But I didn't say that.

Instead, I said, "_You're always putting yourself into situations like that."_

"_You think I act recklessly?"_

"_No, I think you're overprotective of me."_

I chanced a glance at him as I maneuvered the car through the evening traffic and I could see that he was staring at me incredulously.

"_Because I don't want you staring down the barrel of a gun?"_

"_I'm a cop, Bobby, just like you. It's part of the job."_

"_Exactly. Today, it was part of **my** job."_

"_That's what I'm saying!"_ And yeah, now I'm shouting. "_It didn't have to be, but every time…every damn time, Bobby. Today it was Marla…last year it was Ray…hell, last month it was me!" _

Okay, I didn't mean to say that last part. I honestly didn't mean to say any of it because I don't think he did anything wrong, but damn, I was so scared...

"_Yeah, and in case you forgot, I pointed my gun at you last month, too_," he bit out. "_You think that was fun for me? You think I had any idea that one of the cops coming in to make the bust would be you?"_

"_But at least you knew it'd be cops,"_ I pointed out, my anger losing steam as I was flooded instead by nausea at the fact that we're right back _here_ again. "_You wouldn't have pulled the trigger. I could have. I almost did!"_

I slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a stop along the curb near 1PP. I usually park in the garage, but I just needed to get out of the car.

I practically ripped the keys from the ignition and got out of the car, slamming the door closed behind me.

"_Eames, wait,"_ he called out as I headed for the building.

"_It's fine, Bobby. Just let it go."_

"_It's not fine. We need to talk about this."_

"_No, we don't,"_ I argued, but then I felt his hand on my arm, gently tugging in an effort to get me to turn around.

"_Eames,"_ he said pleadingly, and his soft tone finally broke me. I stopped and took a deep breath and then turned around to face him. He immediately said, "_I'm sorry."_

"_No,_" I said, closing my eyes as I exhaled heavily.

"_I'm not sorry?"_

"_I'm sorry,"_ I countered. "_You didn't do anything wrong. In fact, you were really great, talking her off the ledge like you did."_

"_But?_" he asked, questioning the reason for my anger.

"_But I was…afraid for you,"_ I admitted at last.

He nodded thoughtfully, weighing my words, and then said, "_I can understand that. I was a little afraid for me, too."_

"_Okay, so…we're good?"_ I asked, embarrassed by my admission and anxious to avoid delving too deeply into my inappropriate outburst.

"_Yeah. But Eames…we need to talk more. About everything, okay? We can't just bury it or we'll never…um…you know…it'll always be there."_

So that was Tuesday.

On Wednesday, we picked up a new case. The murdered illusionist.

Watching Bobby on stage, playing with the magic tricks, was like seeing him as a child and his enthusiasm was infectious.

The only cog in the wheel was Dean Holiday, our primary suspect. He seemed intent on causing discord between me and Bobby, probably in an effort to throw off our investigation. But whatever his reasons, it really just pissed me off.

Because we were doing _good_.

We were on our steps forward again. Flirting and smiling and laughing. We didn't get back to the talking part yet…or not about the serious stuff anyway, but otherwise, things were moving along nicely.

Until Dean started throwing around the word _trust_.

And I could see Bobby's confidence evaporate.

I don't think anyone else noticed because he puts up a good front, but I know him better than anyone. I know when the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. And then he started dropping his gaze again when we'd talk. I don't mean to look at my chest, either. I mean to look at the ground, almost like he's waiting for backlash from me.

Because he thinks I don't trust him? Because he thinks that Dean's comments about me being hurt by someone I trust are sending me back to those miserable days when I first learned about his undercover?

Yeah, okay, maybe they did, but I want so badly for us to move past it that I'm not going to keep taking it out on Bobby.

It _has_ to be in our past or we'll never have any kind of future.

Is that what he was trying to say to me Tuesday evening in front of 1PP?

_We can't bury it or we'll never…_

Yeah, that's where he was going, and he's exactly right.

Which is why, after slapping the cuffs on Dean Holiday on Saturday evening, I tossed out the idea that maybe we should get a hotel instead of driving back to the city.

We took turns justifying it and in the end, I pulled into a Hampton parking lot and shut off the engine.

"I'll go see if they have any rooms," he offered as he quickly unbuckled his seatbelt.

_Wouldn't it be nice if there's only one left_, I thought as I bit back a smile.

And then I reminded myself that we need to _talk_.

But looking at him…it's always so hard to remember the importance of the spoken word because all I really want to do is run my tongue over his bottom lip.

Okay, that's not anywhere close to being _all_ I want to do, but I digress…

"I'm sure they do," I responded as I unbuckled my seatbelt as well. "Let's just take our bags in with us. We can get our rooms and then grab some dinner, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed with a nod.

"And we'll talk," I added purposefully.

He looked at me nervously as he opened the back to retrieve our duffle bags, but he stayed silent and now he's got me worried.

Isn't talking what he wanted to do?

And I didn't say we'd _only_ talk.

In fact, I'm really hoping for a lot more than that.

We're in Atlantic City, on Saturday night, and we're off the clock.

Would it be so wrong to pretend we're in Vegas?

_What happens in Atlantic City…_

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I signed on the dotted line and then accepted the key packets from the clerk.

"Elevators are around the corner," she said brightly as she flashed me a coquettish smile. "And there's a manager's reception in the lounge until nine. You look like you could use a drink."

Is she seriously flirting with me? Right in front of Eames? While we're in the middle of…of…whatever this is we're doing?

"Thank you," I answered vaguely, quickly turning away only to find Eames standing there with a cross between a smirk and a scowl on her face.

"Are you going to come back down and have a drink, Bobby?" she asked, and I can't decide if she's teasing me or if she's pissed. Sometimes it's really hard to tell the difference.

"No," I answered.

"Are you sure? Because I'm thinking you might get lucky," she retorted, and then she plucked one of the key packets from my hand and glanced inside at the room number before heading for the elevators.

I sighed heavily and followed her around the corner while mentally assessing our situation.

Did that asshole Holiday make her start thinking about my undercover again? And about how much I hurt her by shutting her out?

Or was she thinking about it anyway?

As much as I'd like to, I guess I can't totally blame Holiday. Tuesday night, in the car after we arrested Marla, Eames was _so_ mad. And that was before we'd ever even heard of Holiday.

_Seems I always manage to bring out her hostile side. _

That night though, once we hashed it out, it ended up back in the same place where all of our fights of late end.

The undercover.

So in spite of the flirting and the scorching looks and the suggestive comments that have occurred over the past week, I have absolutely no idea where I stand with her.

But I guess tonight I'm going to find out. I can only hope that when all is said and done, she'll still want to be with me.

At work, I mean.

Anything more would be…well, a dream come true, but right now I feel like I'm standing in quicksand and I really need to find stable ground on at least _one_ front.

"What room are you in?" she asked me as we got on the elevator.

"522," I said after checking the envelope. "You?"

"524. I'm surprised Miss Perky didn't put me on a different floor."

"She wasn't flirting with me," I said dismissively.

"Bobby," she said on a sigh, shaking her head as she looked up at me with those expressive eyes. "Yes. She was. And it's fine."

"It is?" I questioned as the doors opened on the fifth floor.

Why is it fine? Isn't she even just a little bit jealous?

I mean, _I _would be, if the situation were reversed.

"You checked in on the NYPD account, right? And you asked for two rooms. I'm sure even _that_ girl managed to piece together that we're partners."

"Oh. Right. So…"

This certainly isn't this first time we've stayed in a hotel together, but it sure as hell feels like it.

"Give me about fifteen minutes and we'll meet up for dinner, okay?" she said after a moment.

"Sure."

She disappeared into her room and I stared after her until she was out of sight and then I unlocked my door and went inside.

I am _so far_ out of my element here.

Is she mad?

Is she not mad?

Does she want me like I want her?

Or has this last week or so just been her way of trying to get our partnership back on track?

It's not like me to be so clueless.

I tossed my duffle bag onto the dresser and then I sat down on the bed and scrubbed my hands over my face.

I think it's finally put up or shut up time with Eames.

The dancing has gone on long enough.

We need to clear the air once and for all about what happened.

And _then_ I need to tell her how I feel, consequences be damned.

Otherwise we could be trapped forever in this purgatory of uncertainty and if it's only killing her _half_ as much as it is me, then she's miserable and I can't stand the thought of that.

She deserves to be happy. I'd love it if she were happy because of _me_, but if that's not how it's going to work, then we need to find out now.

_Honesty is the way to go_, I decided firmly.

I could feel my anxiety increasing just at the thought of our impending conversation.

What's she going to say?

This _is _the right thing to do, right?

I reached in my pocket and pulled out my cell phone.

I don't know why I think Logan might have the answers, but hey…at least he's got a girl, right? Which is more than I can say for myself. So I'm thinking he must know _something_.

"I can't get a beer tonight."

That's how he answered the phone.

I smiled and said, "Good because I can't either. I'm in Atlantic City."

"Really? Well, throw down a twenty for me. I'm feeling red-22."

I laughed for a moment, enjoying the brief respite from the jumbled mass of nerves I've been lately, but then I said, "I'm not gambling. I'm working."

Not exactly true, but it feels like it. Actually, I think I'm even more stressed now than I was before we made the arrest.

"Oh, that magician thing?" he responded. I'm not sure how he knows, since we've barely seen him all week, but he's a sharp guy, I don't care what Ross thinks. "How's that working out?"

"We made an arrest about an hour ago."

"That's great. So you're not still working."

"No, I guess not. But we're staying here tonight, instead of making the drive back to the city. You know, since it's…late," I told him, and then for some reason, I held my breath as I waited for his response.

"Wait, let me get this straight. So it's Saturday night. You're in AC. You're off the clock. And you're with Eames."

"Yeah."

"Then why the hell are you calling me?"

"I…um…she…she said she wants to…talk."

And maybe that's why I'm worried. She made a point of saying _talk_. Which means…what? Has she reached some sort of resolution about the future of our partnership?

"Okay. Talk. Well, that wouldn't be my first choice, but okay," Logan said jokingly.

"Logan, I'm serious. I think…I don't know. Our suspect…he kept talking about trust, and he said Eames was hurt by someone close to her, and…I don't know. What if it got her thinking? What if this is it?"

Before saying it out loud, it didn't seem so imminent, but after hearing the words, it makes sense.

She's a no-nonsense kind of woman. She wants to have our talk and put things straight, one way or the other.

"It?" he asked incredulously. "You mean you think she's going to call it quits? No way."

"We've been off," I told him. I mean, we have, haven't we? It's like we're not entirely comfortable with each other right now. Like she's pretending. "I mean, it's been better, but still…it's like we're working at it instead of just…doing it."

"Did you try the wine thing, like I suggested?"

"No. I'm not talking about a relationship. I'm talking about our partnership," I said, and maybe my tone was a little sharp, but now I've scared myself shitless.

Is that _really_ what this talk is about? Has she been pretending to get along in an effort to get through this awkward time? Probably.

Only it's not working because I keep upsetting her.

And if we _can't_ get through this…

"You're missing what's right in front of you," Logan said firmly, interrupting my cataclysmic thoughts. "Your partnership wouldn't be struggling if it weren't for the fact that you _do_ have a relationship. I'm not saying you're sleeping together. But I'm saying you obviously both care about each other beyond the job, so get your head out of your ass and tell her what's really on your mind before you blow it on both fronts, okay?"

"Logan…" I began, but I'm not sure what else to say. He has a valid point. And he's telling me to do exactly what I know I need to do, right? Talk and be honest and then see what happens.

_But what's going to happen? _

I might survive it if she breaks my heart on a personal level. Maybe. But if she walks away from me at work, too…

"Look, if I did to Wheeler what you did to Eames, then yeah, she'd be pissed," he continued. "For about five minutes. And then she'd get over it, because we work together and that's it. Eames got so ticked because she felt personally betrayed."

_Exactly_.

"Great. That makes me feel better," I mumbled.

"Yeah, well, then fix it," he stated, and it almost sounds like an order. "But don't settle for just smoothing over the partnership. If you want more, then do something about it."

I was left with dial tone and my stomach's churning and my head's swimming and I have to face Eames in less than five minutes…what the hell am I going to do?

My phone buzzed, startling me from my downward spiral. I looked down, where it still rested in my hand, and saw that it was a text from Eames.

_**Let's eat in instead, so that we can get comfortable. I'll order Chinese. My room in ten minutes? **_

We're going to hang out in her hotel room.

I'm excited and terrified by the prospect.

Is that so we'll have privacy for her to tell me she just can't get over our past?

_You're being negative_, I chastised.

Eames doesn't quit. Ever. She might not want me on a personal level, but she's not going to quit on me professionally.

And things _have_ been better. She's been flirting, for God's sake. Would she do that if she were going to walk away?

Logan's right. I need to get my head out of my ass.

And apparently I need to get comfortable.

I typed her a quick, affirmative reply and then pulled a pair of sweatpants from my duffle bag, along with a plain white t-shirt. I took off my suit and draped it over the back of the chair, since I'll have to put it back on tomorrow.

As I reached for my sweatpants, I caught sight of myself in the mirror and it gave me pause.

What does Eames see when she looks at me?

I'm getting older. My hair's graying. I've definitely put on a few pounds over the years. I've never thought of myself as handsome, but I've certainly never had much trouble getting women.

When I want them, I mean.

Which hasn't been in quite some time.

After a few years of being partnered with Eames, I found myself subconsciously comparing all the women I met to her. I think that's why I gave up altogether because no one ever came close.

And I never really considered I'd have an actual shot with Eames, but I also wasn't going to use other women merely as substitutes.

_But do I have a shot with her? _

I mean, the desk clerk was flirting with me, so maybe I still have at least some appeal to the opposite sex.

And Eames wants to have dinner in not just _a_ room, but _her_ room.

If she were going to eviscerate me, wouldn't she want to be able to leave after delivering the fatal blow?

That thought gives me a little more confidence.

I pulled on my sweatpants and t-shirt, and then went into the bathroom where I washed my face and brushed my teeth and combed my hair. I debated putting on some cologne, but what kind of signal would that send?

_The right one_, I thought.

But do I want to be that obvious about it? I opted for no cologne, and as I gave myself one last look in the mirror, I heard a knock on the door.

I checked the peephole, and there was Eames.

In shorts.

And a t-shirt.

And she looks…annoyed?

I quickly opened the door and she said, "It's not very smart to stand a girl up when you're in the room next door."

An apology was on the tip of my tongue, but then she smirked at me and said, "Are you coming, or what? The food's already here."

Then she smiled fully as she looked up at me and it made me wish I were wearing jeans instead of sweatpants because it'd be a whole lot easier to hide my visceral response to…well, to her extremely arousing sexuality. I don't even think she realizes how sexy she is but…yeah, it's going to be a challenge for me to keep things under control.

"Let me grab my key."

Five minutes later, we were sitting on one of the two beds in her room, with a towel spread out over the bedspread and a veritable smorgasbord on top of that.

"I wasn't sure what you'd be in the mood for," she said, a little self-consciously as I peeked inside of each box.

I shifted my gaze over to her, where she sat cross-legged, a smile still on her face, and I know _exactly_ what I'm in the mood for.

_Why was I so nervous about this,_ I wondered.

We're good.

"Everything looks great," I remarked as I picked up one of the boxes.

"Yeah, well, Miss Perky was more than happy to make a recommendation for me. I think she was glad to know that I'll be staying in my room tonight. I'm sure she's hoping you'll venture down to the bar alone."

"No chance of that," I said, rolling my eyes like Eames always does to me.

"Because you don't like pretty young blondes who flirt with you?" she pushed.

"She was not," I began, but then at Eames' raised eyebrow, I stopped and changed tack. "Okay, so she was flirting. And no, I'm not interested."

I paused for a moment as I worked up the nerve to start the ball rolling, and then I added meaningfully, "But you know that."

She tipped her head to one side, regarding me carefully as she set down her box of food and asked, "And how would I know that?"

This is it.

I can say it right now. What's the worst that can happen?

_She'll kick you out._ And email a new partner request to Ross.

_No she won't_, I argued. I mean, she might kick me out, but she won't stop being my partner.

But instead of saying anything, I continued to stare at her until she dropped her gaze and picked up the box again.

"I emailed Ross," she said blandly, and for a moment, my heart was in my throat, but then she continued. "I let him know that Holiday's on his way to lock up and that we'll be back in town tomorrow."

"Okay, good."

I stabbed a piece of broccoli with my plastic fork, but my appetite is gone.

I blew it.

She's…something. Disappointed? Or angry? Or…what?

And when did I lose my ability to read her?

"Okay, let's just get this out of the way," she said, once again setting down the box as she got up from the bed.

"Get what out of the way?" I asked and I don't know what's wrong with me because I'm petrified that she's about to say something life-altering and yet I'm looking at her legs. Because seriously…how often do I get to see Eames' legs?

And they're nice. Really, _really_ nice.

"Bobby," she said on a frustrated sigh and then she came to a stop in front of me where I'm sitting on the end of the bed, and now I can't help but notice how we're almost the same height like this, with me sitting and her standing. "We said we were going to talk, right?"

"That's what _you_ said," I replied obstinately. "So…talk."

She furrowed her brow as she narrowed her eyes at me, and I don't know why I'm being difficult because I _know_ we need to talk and yet I can barely concentrate because she's so close and we're in a hotel room and it feels so intimate and I want to touch her to see if her legs are as smooth as they look and I want to pull out the clip that she used to hold her hair back from her face and more than anything I want to wrap my arms around her and just _hold_ her…

"No," she said firmly as she put her hands on her hips. "This isn't all on me. You said it, too, so don't sit there and act like I'm the only one with the problem. We _need_ to talk about this, Bobby."

For some reason, her irritation only increased my arousal, which is already approaching a dangerous level, and my fingers are itching with the need to touch her because she's just _right there_.

"Forget it," she said sharply and she started to turn around, but I finally reached my hand out, planning to touch her on the arm but she moved at the last second and my palm flattened against her hip. She froze and looked down at my hand for a moment and then brought her eyes back to mine and asked challengingly, "What?"

"I want to talk," I said at last, still not moving my hand because damn, how long have I been waiting to touch her somewhere other than an innocuous location? And since she hasn't broken any of my fingers yet, I think I might be safe.

"Then use your words, Bobby, because our telepathy seems to be on the fritz tonight," she retorted smartly, but even as she said the words, she eased slightly closer to me so that she's almost between my knees. And her expression softened as her stance relaxed and my confidence is suddenly back in full force because I realize that she _wants_ things to be right between us. And the wanting is half the battle, right?

And as for my hand on her hip…well, it's still there and I'm not moving it.

"I don't want to fight with you," I stated quietly.

"Who said anything about fighting?"

"It seems to be what happens every time we talk about…_it_."

She nodded thoughtfully and said, "It did. But now you've promised not to keep anything from me again. And I should've said the same thing, so I'll do it now. I won't keep anything from you again, okay?"

I looked at her questioningly for a moment and then it hit me.

The letter.

Not the same thing and yet maybe it is a little bit.

"You let Holiday get to you," she continued. "His digs about trust. Do you think I don't trust you anymore?"

I weighed her question carefully because that's exactly what I thought.

Last week.

But now I think she does.

And she's right. I let him get to me. I let him make me insecure.

"I know you do," I answered. "But he was right about one thing. Someone you trust hurt you."

"Yes," she admitted. "But what's done is done. And…I think maybe our partnership will be stronger for it. There aren't any secrets anymore, right?"

"Right," I said. "No secrets."

_Except that I love you._

And I can't tell her that, can I?

But if I don't, then I _am_ keeping secrets. And trying to protect her through omission is what got me into trouble in the first place. If I can't be honest with her…with _Eames_…with the one person who knows me better than anyone…

"There is something else, though," I blurted out quickly before I could change my mind.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and I reluctantly withdrew my hand from her hip. I'd love to keep touching her, but I have no idea how she's going to respond to what I'm about to say.

I mean, this is huge and we just put our partnership on the right path, so am I now going to send us astray again?

_She won't hurt me,_ my mind supplied. Or at least, not intentionally. Rejection _will_ hurt, but I know she won't hold my confession against me. We've come too far.

"Okay," she said cautiously and now I can tell I've worried her.

"It's…um…it's been on my mind but I didn't want to…well, I mean…I'm not sure about…um…"

"We're getting it all out in the open," she said with understanding. "Whatever it is, just say it and we'll work through it, okay?"

_Easier said than done._

I took a moment just to breathe.

I'm not sure it's a good idea to tell her this while her knees are in such close proximity to my unprotected equipment, but I suppose if she's that angry about it, then I won't be needing it anyway. It's not like I'm going to run down to the lounge to find Miss Perky if Eames' rejects me.

"Bobby?"

"Yeah, um…"

And then I let my eyes walk over her because looking at Eames always makes me feel better. She's been a constant in my life for so long.

Only this time when I looked, I _really_ looked. The flawless skin of her shapely legs…the way her t-shirt hugs her curves…how a few pieces of hair have slipped out of the clip so that they're framing her face…her beautiful eyes that are soft and inquisitive and fully focused on me…

_God, I want her so much._

"You know, if you don't…um…it's just that…" I tried again, and then I stopped when she closed her eyes.

Does she know what I'm about to say?

"Never mind," she said quietly. "If it's this hard for you to say what's on your mind, to share with me…"

"It's not," I interrupted quickly, because now she's disappointed thinking it's something I don't _want_ to share and it's not that, it's just…I'm scared.

_Get your head out of your ass, _my inner Logan shouted. _Before you blow your chance! _

So I reached up, once again putting my hand on her hip, and as I lightly moved my thumb back and forth along the bottom edge of her t-shirt, I went for broke.

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

**Alex POV**

* * *

_I love you. _

That's what he said to me as he sat in front of me with those fingers of his resting against the thin material of my gym shorts.

My brain nearly short-circuited.

I mean, of course I've dreamed about this exact moment.

But that doesn't mean I thought there was a chance in hell of it actually happening.

My best-case scenario was for us to delve into _partners with benefits _territory.

"You don't have to…I mean, I don't expect…um…" he said as he held my gaze with those soulful brown eyes of his. "It's not…you don't…"

"Bobby," I said, finally finding my voice.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

As I said the words, I stepped closer to him, moving between his thighs as I put my hands on his cheeks and leaned down slightly to press my lips against his.

I wasn't tentative about it, either, because I'm just so overwhelmed by this latest turn of events…so happy that we managed to get here and that he was honest about his feelings.

And that he _loves_ me.

Those words replayed over and over in my mind as I held his face in my hands and kissed him just like in my fantasies.

Passionately. Lustfully. Desperately.

I eased even closer to him as he slid his hands around to my back, his fingers moving just beneath the edge of my t-shirt, and the touch of his skin against mine ignites fires inside of me and he's apparently gotten over his shock at my response because he's suddenly taken over control of the kiss and it's even _better_ than my fantasies and it's all I can do to keep up because it's so intense and it just feels _so_ good.

He moved his mouth away from mine, but I can't mourn the loss because now he's burning a path down my throat with his lips and tongue, so I tip my head back encouragingly while I let my fingers move into his hair.

"I should've opened up to you sooner," he murmured, his mouth still against my skin, and I felt the laughter bubble up through me.

"See what you've been missing?" I replied playfully, and then my chuckling turned to moaning as he shifted his focus to my ear, drawing the lobe into his mouth while at the same time, his fingers began exploring along the inside of the waistband of my shorts.

_Got to love a man who knows how to multi-task._

And I _do_ love him.

I mean, I knew it, but _oh my God_, I love him.

And he was so brave to throw out that declaration without any kind of reassurance about how I'd respond.

Well, I mean any kind of Bobby reassurance.

Because yes, I've been flirting. And checking him out. And it's not like I'd wear these short shorts in front of him if he were truly _just_ my partner.

But I know him and I know he surely had doubts about my response.

_Which so far has only been to kiss him_, I reminded myself.

"So…anything else?" I managed to ask, even though my body is humming with arousal and talking is about the furthest thing from my mind. And yet, I also can't let things go unsaid because that would be backtracking and there's no way in the world I'm going to let us go backwards after finally getting _here_.

"What?" he asked.

And I love that he sounds breathless and distracted.

"Any other secrets you want to share?"

He stopped his assault on my ear and pulled back to look at me, and his eyes are dark and his lips are red and full and holy shit if I thought he was sexy before…

"That one wasn't big enough?" he asked me in a low rumbling voice.

"I just want to make sure it's all out there," I replied, and I know I'm drawing this thing out when I should just say it, but it's a scary thing, saying those words…how he managed to do it, I'll never know.

He moved one hand up to my hair, taking hold of the clip and loosening it so that the strands came free. He tossed the clip in the vicinity of the dresser and then slid his fingers into my hair.

"I think it's safe to say that now you know everything there is to know about me," he said earnestly.

That's a heady thought.

He's given me so much power and trust.

Why does it still scare me to hold back?

"I can't believe you said that," I confessed, running my hand over the softness of his full beard, taking advantage of the fact that I'm finally allowed to touch him.

"Why not? It's true."

"I know, but…"

"You said no secrets, and there's no way I was going to risk losing you by keeping one, so…"

"I love you, too," I interrupted, saying the words in a rush in order to make sure they got out.

It felt like time was suspended as we stood there, staring into each other's eyes and for a terrifying, irrational moment, I was petrified that he was going to laugh and say, _oh you thought I was serious about that, Eames?_

But he didn't.

What he did was kiss me with such intensity and emotion…possessively, and yet reverently as his hands returned to the waistband of my shorts, lightly teasing the skin of my lower back before venturing lower into new territory. On the _outside_ of my shorts, mind you, but still…the feel of his big hands grasping my butt …he's got me moaning again. I can't help it.

I took another step closer, wanting to feel his body against mine, and he must have read my mind because then he wrapped his arms around me, and in one motion, he pulled me down on top of him as he laid back on the bed and then he turned us over so that I was underneath him.

A perfectly executed move, only we landed partially on the Chinese food.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled as I burst into laughter, feeling one of the boxes beneath my back but not caring at all, and then he started laughing, too, as together we shifted around and shoved at the food until it went off the edge of the bed and then suddenly nothing was funny anymore as he once again stretched out over top of me, with the full length of his body pressed against me.

He propped himself up with his forearms, one on either side of my head and his fingers idly played with the ends of my hair.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked me, and I'm not sure how I'm supposed to carry on a conversation right now, while he's situated between my thighs and he's looking at me like he's about to devour me.

"Why didn't you?" I managed to reply.

"I think we've established that I don't always show the best judgment," he said as a smile played on his lips.

Those lips…oh my God. I knew he'd be an incredible kisser, but still…

And since I _can_, I ran my thumb over his bottom lip. It sent a jolt of pleasure through me, and I think it did for him, too, because his eyes darkened even more and then as I did it again, he parted his lips, drawing my thumb into his mouth.

I let out a slow breath and closed my eyes while enjoying the sensation for a moment, but then my curiosity got the better of me.

"So what changed?" I asked him, moving my hand to once again caress his cheek.

"Everything," he said solemnly. "I think I came so close to losing you as a partner that it hit me how much I need you in my life, my _whole_ life not just at work. And then Logan..."

"Wait, you talked to Logan about us?" I asked in surprise.

And no, I'm not mad at all. It just caught me off guard. Actually, I'm glad that my less-than-subtle pushing of a friendship between them seems to have worked.

"_He_ talked to _me_," he answered with a grin. "He's got this crazy idea that we're sleeping together."

I ran my hands down his back and over his butt, pulling him more firmly against me and mother of God I can _feel_ him, so unbelievably long and rock-hard, right _there_ and it seems so surreal and yet at the same time so perfectly right.

"I'd hate for him to be wrong," I said, raising my hips a little to provide some counter-pressure.

He drew in a long, shaky breath and then asked, "Are you propositioning me, Eames?"

"We love each other. We're in a hotel room. I think it's a moral imperative, don't you? Oh, and it's Alex, okay?"

"Uh uh," he groaned, his eyes slipping closed as I pulled his hips against mine again. "It's dangerous. That's your middle name."

He opened his eyes again, pinning me with a searing look as he shifted his weight onto one arm, and then with his free hand, he ran his fingers along my cheek and then slowly and purposefully burned a trail down the center of my body, stopping when he reached the hem of my t-shirt.

"I think dangerous works for you, too," I said, and I can barely even hear my own voice because my concentration is so focused on what he's going to do next.

"Do you have any idea how much time I've spent thinking about you?" he asked, his whole hand still resting heavily on my abdomen and oddly enough, it's causing radiating tingling sensations and I'm not sure how much longer I can take this seemingly innocent touch. Because there's nothing innocent about it and I'm suddenly so anxious and restless that I can't lay still.

"I can guess," I murmured as I shifted slightly, encouraging him to explore.

He held my gaze for another beat and then his eyes wandered over me slowly as he said, "I can't believe we're doing this."

"We're not doing anything yet," I pointed out, and even though I'm teasing him, I'm still nearly ready to explode from anticipation.

"Are you feeling anxious…_Alex_?" he asked playfully as his fingers clutched at the fabric of my t-shirt, pushing it up just a little bit so that a few inches of skin are exposed.

And I don't know if it's the sound of my first name on his lips, or the fact that he's finally got his hand back into action, or the hard feel of him against me, but I'm literally vibrating with want.

And since when did _he_ garner so much self-control?

Am I not affecting him as much as he's affecting me?

But as the thought rolled through my mind, I heard him exhale heavily as he slipped his hand further beneath my shirt, now caressing the area just below my breasts.

"You're so beautiful," he said, his voice laden with adoration. "And I've wanted you for so long. I'm scared to death that as soon as I get you out of these clothes, it's all going to be over."

_Oh_.

I hadn't considered how close he might be.

I also never considered how downright sweet and romantic he would be. Any time I pictured us getting together, it was always frantic and harried and…well, definitely hot, but still…not like this.

But I'm really loving it like this, with the talking and the gentle touching, and it hits me that even if this is as far as we go, it's still the best night of my life.

And since we're in the business of full disclosure, I said those words out loud. And I think maybe it took a little bit of pressure off of him because after my statement, he smiled at me, a slow and devastatingly sexy smile, and then he brought his lips back to mine as his fingers finally grazed the bottom edge of my breast.

The hesitant touch was followed by more confident and purposeful caresses that had me buzzing with pleasure. I tugged on his shirt, wanting to feel his skin beneath my hands, and he moved back from me so that he could pull off his t-shirt, and while he did that, I sat up and took mine off, too.

And the expression on his face as he looked at me in my shorts and bra…God, he makes me feel so beautiful.

I laid back on the bed and he lightly ran one fingertip over the edge of my bra.

"Black lace," he said with a half-smile. "I knew it."

"You thought about it?"

"Day and night, night and day," he replied softly as he leaned down and pressed his lips against the area between my breasts.

"Well, I have other colors," I said, letting my eyes fall closed as he moved his mouth along the top edge of the lace, going first to one side and then the other.

"Will I get to see them all?"

"That's the plan," I answered on a sigh, and then my breath caught in my throat as he suddenly used his hand to push the fabric out of the way and then proceeded to explore the newly-revealed territory, first with his palm and then with his mouth, and then he moved to the other one, giving it the same treatment, and I'm pretty sure if he keeps this up, I'm about to have my first ever foreplay-induced orgasm.

And maybe my continuous moaning is cluing him in to how close I am because he doesn't stop. The alternating tantalizing sensations of lips and teeth and tongue and his oh-so-talented fingers…it's only a matter of minutes before I'm hit by the powerful wave of release.

I might be embarrassed about how fast I got there if it didn't feel so damn good.

"Alex, that was…" he began, but then he trailed off as he eased up higher on the bed, bringing his mouth back to mine.

The kiss was intoxicating, languid yet with an underlying sense of urgency, and I love the feel of his chest hair brushing against my hypersensitive breasts and I moved my hands down to his butt, this time reaching inside his sweatpants as I pulled him against me yet again, now more desperate than ever to see him, to touch him, to feel him inside of me.

But that last thought was enough to give me pause, and I reluctantly broke off the kiss.

"Please tell me you have a condom," I said when he looked at me questioningly. And from the look on his face, I know the answer. "You don't? Really?"

"I…um…no," he said.

"In your wallet?"

"I don't carry them."

"Not very optimistic, are you?" I said, trying to tease a smile out of him since he now looks every bit as disappointed as I feel.

It worked, because he chuckled lightly as he moved onto his side, still plastered against me but no longer looming over me.

"I used to," he replied, holding my gaze as his hand skimmed over my breast again, and I love that he's still touching me and that he seems comfortable doing it. "But then I'd end up throwing them out because they'd expire, and…"

I'd really love to quiz him on this a little more because I know for a fact that condoms usually last for several years, so how long has it been for him?

But that's a question for another day because right now, we've got a more pressing issue.

"I noticed a drug store a couple of blocks away," I said suggestively, and the words were barely out of my mouth before he leaned over and kissed me hard and then got up from the bed and reached for his shirt.

"I'll be right back," he said as he pulled on his shirt. Then his gaze moved over me in a way that sent a fresh flood of tingling through me.

But there's no way I'm letting him go alone.

I sat up and adjusted my bra, pulling the fabric of the cups back into place while he watched questioningly.

"I'm going with you," I explained.

"You don't have to."

"Yes, I do. Otherwise you might not come back," I said with a smile as I got up from the bed. I reached for my shirt, but he wrapped his arms around me from behind, hugging my back to his front.

"Armageddon won't keep me from coming back to you," he said into my ear.

"Maybe not, but I know how your mind works," I answered as I turned his arms. "In two blocks' time, you'll have convinced yourself that you'll be doing me a favor if you put an end to this thing before it ever really gets started."

He grinned at me sheepishly and I asked, "Am I right?"

"Well, I'm not going to lie. I might think it, but…I'm a selfish man, so I'd still come back," he stated as he settled his palm against my cheek. "I want you too much not to."

And there it is again. That feeling.

_I'm so in love with him. _

Ten minutes later, we exited the hotel, heading for the drug store. Our earlier prediction of rain had proven true – large droplets began falling from the sky before we even crossed the hotel parking lot.

But it's not cold outside, and Bobby's holding my hand in his, and I don't plan on wearing these clothes once we get back to the hotel anyway, so what's the harm in a little rain?

And honestly, it's a pleasant rain, so it only adds to my mood.

Because I feel downright giddy.

It's not a typical emotion for me but Bobby seems to bring it out in me, and I can get used to it. I think it's that _happy_ I've been looking for.

And this side trip is cracking me up.

It takes me back to my high school years when my boyfriend would pick me up and I'd have a change purse full of quarters so that we could use the condom dispenser in the mini-mart in order to avoid the embarrassment of buying them from the store clerk.

Although I don't imagine it's going to bother Bobby at all.

"This is something I never expected to be doing," he commented with amusement.

"Walking with me to buy condoms?"

"Exactly," he said on a laugh.

"Think we can slip it in on our expense report?" I joked.

"Only if you want to give Ross a heart attack."

"Hmm…" I said, feigning consideration. "No, I guess we'd better not."

We chuckled together for a minute and then Bobby came to a stop outside of the CVS.

"Alex, are you sure about this?" he asked as he stood facing me. His t-shirt is soaked and his hair is curling from the dampness and he just looks so _cute_.

"Yes," I answered immediately. "Are you?"

"Yes."

"Then go buy a condom," I said with a smirk as I lightly pushed him in the direction of the door and then swatted at his butt.

He looked back at me over his shoulder and asked innocently, "Just one?"

His question makes my mouth go dry. I don't know why, but I never considered _needing_ more than one. I mean, we're only spending one night here, and I have some at home.

"How many do we need?"

"More than one," he replied with a cocky grin.

I waited on the sidewalk while he went in to make the purchase, and he was back outside in only a few minutes.

"Let's go," he said as he took me by the hand and began walking quickly back towards the hotel.

"Is this our getaway? Did you steal them" I asked teasingly.

"I paid for them," he answered on a chuckle. "I'm just anxious to get back."

"Me, too," I admitted.

And I _am_ anxious. I get hot just thinking about the things he was doing to me before we left, and we were just getting started. How much better is it going to be when we don't have to put on the brakes?

The walk back only took two minutes, and then we rode the elevator up to the fifth floor, not talking or touching except for our hands, and yet the energy between us is sparking and palpable.

In another minute, we were in my room, where he closed and locked the door behind us and then tossed the bag from the drugstore onto the nightstand before turning to look at me. His expression was both lustful and insecure, which is an odd combination and yet very _Bobby_ because I know he has trouble believing that he deserves to get what he wants.

And yeah, I'm a little insecure, too, since I have trouble believing that _I'm _what he wants.

I guess we're both a little messed up.

But right now, I know what to do.

I walked over to him and put my hand on his chest, gently pushing him to encourage him to sit down on the bed.

Once he did, I moved between his legs, repeating the position we were in when he first said he loves me, and the re-creation of the scene makes me hear those words in my head again, and if that doesn't give a girl confidence then I don't know what will.

So I grabbed onto the bottom of my shirt and pulled it off over my head.

And then I looked at him challengingly and said, "Now. Where were we?"

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

**Bobby POV**

* * *

"No."

The word was said firmly, but not sharply. Clear and decisive but without urgency or heat.

And yet it still gave me pause.

"What?" I asked carefully.

And I'll be honest.

I'm having to work to keep the fear from taking over.

Because _no_ isn't exactly what I expected to hear as I wake up with Eames in my arms.

I'm on my side and so is she, with her face pressed against my chest, and moments ago, as consciousness began to trickle in and I remembered where I am and who I'm with and what we spent most of last night doing, a smile spread across my face as I began gently stroking my fingers over her back.

But then she said no.

"Bobby," she sighed and the sound is so sweet, so sexy, so…_arousing_, but I'm still wondering about the no, so I held my breath and waited for her to elaborate.

"I'm not doing it," she said at last and just as I started to pull away from her, thinking she's got a terrible case of buyer's remorse, she added, "You have to do your own 318's, but hurry up so we can get out of here, okay?"

And just like that, I was able to breathe again.

In fact, I almost started laughing.

Eames talks in her sleep.

About work.

Who knew?

It's an interesting piece of new information for me to file away, along with the fact that she actually giggles when I kiss a certain spot on her neck.

And her face flushes when she gets aroused.

And she moans when I caress her breasts.

Oh, and she shouts when she comes.

That last thought brings a smile to my face.

Because she did a _lot_ of shouting last night.

When we got back to the room, after our side trip to the drugstore, I was feeling a little unsure of myself.

But then she stood in front of me, in those tiny little shorts and her black lace bra and her skin was wet from the rain and she looked so vulnerable and trusting and gorgeous and I realized how monumental the moment was for her, to set aside the awkwardness that could've easily creeped in after my colossal faux pas, because come on…what single guy doesn't carry at least _one_ condom?

But she wasn't bothered by it at all.

Instead she walked with me to the drugstore, and then when we got back…like I said, I was suddenly nervous while she was bold and courageous.

Is it any wonder that I love her?

_And she loves me_, I reminded myself.

Something I _hoped_ would happen someday but I never thought could possibly be true _now_.

But she does.

And even if she hadn't said the words, I think I would've known anyway because when she stood in front of me, offering herself to me, the expression on her face was so adoring and loving and…well, and _challenging_, but she wouldn't be Eames if she weren't.

And all I could think was _she's mine_.

And she loves me.

It's funny because every time I imagined what her response might be to me telling her the truth about my feelings, it never once occurred to me it would be _this_.

_If it had then I might've been smart enough to put a damn condom in my wallet, _I thought with a mental eye roll.

But maybe the unexpected delay was actually a good thing because it gave both of us a few extra minutes to think rationally about what was about to happen next.

And I say both of us, but there wasn't much thinking that needed to be done on _my_ part.

I know what I want.

I've known for a while now.

Her.

Twenty-four-seven for the rest of our lives.

And last night as she stood there and looked into my eyes, waiting for my response to her provocative remark of _where were we_, I half-expected for the hotel to catch fire or a tidal wave to hit Atlantic City or _something_ because I was about to obtain my heart's desire and that just doesn't happen to me.

But I guess it does.

Because the hotel's still standing, and I made love to her twice last night.

The first time, I completely lost the handle on my control.

"_I think you were wearing a little bit less_," I said in answer to her question as I reached up to trace my fingers over the top edge of her bra.

"_So were you_," she reminded me, but I was already focused on her and this time it wasn't enough just to pull the material out of the way, so I reached around behind her and undid the hooks and then let the garment fall to the floor.

"_This is much better_," I said and then I spent a few minutes re-familiarizing myself with the incredible landscape.

Lord knows I've stared at her breasts often enough, when they were covered up, so once I was allowed unfettered access…well, I took my time.

And she seemed to like it. She ran her fingers through my hair while I tasted the rainwater from her skin, and the sounds she made…she was driving me crazy with need but I didn't want to rush it.

Or at least, the _plan_ was not to rush it.

But then I slid my hands around to her backside, beneath the waistband of her shorts and I encountered nothing but smooth, bare skin.

The discovery sent a rush of arousal through my already over-stimulated body and I hesitated briefly, for some reason needing encouragement from her that my hands on her ass were perfectly acceptable. Silly, considering the location of my mouth, but still…

"_You need help?"_ she asked, sounding amused as she reached down to her shorts and undid the string.

"_No, I…you're…you're not…"_

"_I'm dressed for bed, Bobby. I don't wear underwear to bed."_

"_But you were wearing a bra,"_ I pointed out, and I have no idea why I felt the need to sit there and question her underwear choices. Maybe because I absolutely _love_ the idea that she was sitting right next to me on the bed, even before she knew what I was going to say, and she was wearing nothing but those thin little shorts.

Has she done that before?

"_It would've been a little more obvious if I'd gone without that, don't you think?"_ she answered with her patented practicality.

And then she shoved her shorts from her hips, letting them fall to the floor so that she was standing in front of me, wearing nothing at all.

That's about the time I started losing control.

I stood up and wrapped my arms around her, picking her up as I turned us around and then I set her down on the bed so that she was stretched out in front of me, and I went with her for a moment, kissing her with urgency and fervor while my hands explored…everywhere.

But I still had on too many clothes and I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold out, so I pulled back, getting back to my feet and then I had to just _look_ for a minute because this is _Eames_ and I was having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that this is real, so I let my eyes walk over her slowly as my mouth went dry and my raging hard-on went past the point of painful and I suddenly couldn't think about anything except how desperately I needed to be inside of her.

I tried to count to ten while I pulled off my shirt and sweatpants, but I lost track somewhere around three, and I decided the stalling tactic was useless. Eames reached for the bag on the nightstand while I shed my boxers and as soon as I joined her on the bed, she handed me a packet and then pulled me down to her, kissing me with such ardor that I forgot about everything else.

"_You have to __**open**__ it,"_ she said, chuckling lightly as she took the packet from my hand and ripped it open.

"_You have to quit distracting me_," I countered as I took over the task, and then suddenly we were serious again, and right back to where we were maybe an hour ago, with me situated between her thighs, only this time without any clothes between us and the prophylactic in place, and I hesitated, but just briefly, just long enough to settle my gaze on hers and make sure that she's still _with_ me.

And of course she is. Eames is always with me, in everything.

She clenched her fingers, where they were resting on my butt, encouraging me to take the next step, so I did.

I drove into her, powerfully and confidently, and she moaned out my name as she tightened her grip on my butt, and the last remnants of my control were completely lost.

I brought my mouth down to hers, kissing her enthusiastically while pushing into her deeper, harder, faster…it wasn't long after that before she was shouting my name and I have no idea how I managed to keep going after that confidence-inspiring moment, but I did.

In fact, I kept it up long enough to make her call out my name _again_. It was after that second time that I finally had to let go and the entire experience was just so…uplifting and inspiring and wholly gratifying.

I barely feel like me. I'm too happy.

Afterwards, once we were able to move, we ordered room service, since the bulk of our meal was still on the floor. We cleaned up the mess of Chinese food while we waited for our burgers, and I don't know why I thought it might be awkward because it wasn't at all.

And she looks as happy as I feel.

An hour or so later, we were back in the bed, me on my back and her on her side next to me. We had the television tuned into some mindless sitcom, but I don't think either of us were paying attention to it.

I know I wasn't. And then she picked up the remote control and hit the mute button before tossing the device onto the nightstand and turning back towards me.

For a moment, I thought she was about to embark upon some deep conversation, where we would talk about how this change in our relationship was going to affect our lives.

But she didn't.

Instead, she moved into a half-sitting position and pushed the covers off of me, and then she let her gaze wander over the length of my body. And yeah, I'm naked again. I put on my sweatpants while we cleaned up and ate dinner, but once it was time to get back into bed, I pulled them back off.

Not that I'm embarrassed to let her look at me. I mean, maybe a little self-conscious, but mostly I just like that she _wants_ to look.

When she returned her eyes to mine, still without saying a word, I raised an eyebrow in question. She smirked at me and then tucked her hair behind her ear before resting her palm on my chest, and even just that innocent touch sent a jolt of pleasure through me.

"_I didn't really get to look before_," she said with a hint of playfulness. "_Do you mind?"_

"_Um…no."_

"_Good. So…relax. It's my turn."_

Relax.

I'm not sure that's the word I'd use to describe what I did while she took her time getting acquainted with my body.

Tremble, maybe.

In anticipation.

Because she spent quite some time touching and tasting and kissing…

And then it was my turn again, because really, the foreplay was pretty much bypassed the first time we made love. Once we got back from the drugstore, I mean.

But the second time…I made sure to devote my full attention to every inch of her, and she did the same to me, and by the time we'd completely exhausted each other, the TV was broadcasting some middle-of-the-night infomercial, and I used my last bit of energy to pull the covers over us and wrap my arms around her.

And now, this morning, she's still asleep in my arms, with the top of her head below my chin and her feet barely reaching my shins.

_She's so small and yet such a huge presence in my life. _

I pulled her closer to me, loving the feel of her skin against mine, and then I resumed stroking my fingers over her back as she stretched and mumbled something before exhaling heavily, and I could feel her breath tickling the hairs on my chest.

I don't ever want to leave this bed.

Not only because I love having her naked and in my arms, but also because I'm afraid that reality might get in the way for us.

I mean, we have to go back to _work_.

And pretend we don't love each other.

Although I guess I've been doing that for a while now, but still…

"You're still here."

Her voice was soft and still rough with sleep, but I think she's actually awake this time.

"Did you think I'd leave?"

She stretched again, rubbing her body against me and increasing the magnitude of my already-considerable hard-on, and then she tipped her head back, bringing her eyes to mine.

"I wasn't sure," she admitted as a smile played on her lips.

Strange that she would think that and yet not be upset. Although maybe it's not so strange. She knows me. She knows my self-doubts and insecurities. And she has to know that if I _had_ left it wouldn't have anything to do with her, but with _me_.

"Be sure," I asserted, trailing my hand down to her butt and pulling her firmly against me. "The only thing that would've gotten me out of this bed is you, kicking me out."

"Why in the world would I do that? It took me years to get you here," she replied with a smirk.

I had no idea she'd be a morning person, but I love it.

"So," she continued as she reached between us and ran her hand over my now-throbbing erection. "Tell me again how many condoms you bought?"

She repeated the action and I bit back a groan before saying, "If you keep that up, we won't be needing any."

She flashed me a smile and then slowly and purposefully did it again and this time, I _did_ groan because it feels so damn good, but then I gently took hold of her wrist, pulling her hand away as I leaned in to capture her lips.

It's hard to believe that it's been less than twelve hours since I kissed her for the first time. Or rather _she_ kissed _me_, after I told her that I love her. And now, just a short time later, it feels like I've been kissing her for all of my life.

She kicked the covers out of the way and then pushed me onto my back as she sat up and moved one leg over me so that she was on her knees, straddling my waist. Not exactly where I'd like her to be, but still…not a bad position to be in.

"You haven't freaked out yet," she stated conversationally as she began running her fingers across my chest.

"Surprised?"

"Honestly? Yes," she answered with a smile. "This is a huge step and you're just taking it all in stride."

"So are you," I pointed out. I put my hands on her legs and then started moving them upwards, letting my thumbs graze along the inner edge of her thighs. "Now you're not only partnered with the whack job, but you're sleeping with him, too."

"Bobby…"

"I know. I'm not a whack job. But you know what I'm saying. I drive you crazy at work sometimes, so now…"

"You drive me crazy when you keep things from me," she said. "Which you're not going to do anymore."

"True."

"And," she began, but then she sucked in a harsh breath as I slid one finger inside of her and then she exhaled slowly as I started a leisurely rhythm.

"And?" I prompted smugly, loving the fact that I've managed to render her speechless. Usually it's me who forgets how to talk, so it's nice to know I have that kind of effect on her.

"And…um…you drive me crazy when you…when you…"

I paused for a moment because I have to know what else I do that drives her crazy, so that I can be sure to stop doing it.

"When I…"

She opened her eyes and looked at me with such heat and intensity that I don't think I could look away if I tried.

"When you won't let me get close to you," she said at last.

"I think it's safe to say that'll never happen again."

She held my gaze for another moment and then she smiled and added, "And of course, when you come into work, looking so damn good in those suits…_that_ drives me crazy."

"Why?" I asked on a laugh.

"Because then I'd have to go home and fantasize about getting you _out_ of those suits."

I love the idea that she's thought about me like that.

"Well, now you won't have to fantasize."

And I have no idea how this whole thing is going to work…how much off-time we're going to be spending together, but if she wants to strip me down after work, then I'm all for it.

"You can get me out of my suit whenever the urge hits you," I added as I resumed the steady motion of my finger. "And six."

"Six?" she asked, now slightly breathless and her face is flushed and I think maybe if I keep this up a little longer, I'm going to hear her shout again.

"Condoms," I clarified. "That's how many I bought. So we're down to four."

"We probably need to…pack up and…head for…home in a few…hours," she managed to say, her eyes once again closed and her head tipped back and God, she's got to be the most beautiful woman.

"Probably," I agreed, and then our conversation was put on hold for a minute as I increased the rhythm and put all of my focus into pushing her over the brink.

I love how she's so responsive and passionate and uninhibited.

As much time as I spent pondering how she might be in bed, and I find out that she's just Eames.

_Alex_.

She's aggressive and adventurous, giving and generous, sensual and selfless.

She's just as she is in the other aspects of life.

The perfect match for me.

"So…four," she said, picking up the thread of our conversation once the moment had passed.

"Uh huh."

"They'll never fit in the duffle bag," she said with a smile as she leaned down to kiss me. "And I'd hate for them to go to waste, so…sounds like you've got some work to do."

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

**Alex POV**

* * *

"You want coffee?"

"That depends," I answered as I looked up from the file I was reading and found Bobby staring at me with that look…the one I've seen half a dozen times since Saturday night.

The one that says _give me five minutes and I'll have you screaming my name_.

I love that look.

Except at the moment, we're sitting in the squad room at 1PP, so unfortunately, there's not going to be any screaming any time soon.

"On?" he questioned.

"Are there strings attached?"

"To coffee?" he asked innocently as he got up from his chair. I raised an eyebrow at him and he bit back a smile, ducking his head in an effort to hide it.

Because last night when he offered to get me a bottle of water, there were strings.

Arousing, pleasurable, satisfying strings.

"Eames," he said with feigned rebuke. "Do you want the coffee or not?"

"Yeah, sure," I said with a shrug.

Why not?

I think I like being indebted to him.

I _know_ I like how things are going with us.

And I know…it hasn't even been forty-eight hours.

But we worked for a while yesterday, handling the wrap-up of the Dean Holiday case. And now we've been at work for nearly half an hour today.

And so far, it's been…much, much better than I hoped.

I subtly watched him walk away and then I heard Ross.

"Logan! A word?"

_Apparently there __**is**__ going to be screaming in 1PP today_, I thought with a smirk.

Shaking my head, I looked over at Logan as he got up from his desk. I saw his eyes shift over towards Ross' office and then he made his way towards my desk.

"I'm starting to think I can set my watch by you," I teased. "Mondays and Fridays at eight…Logan gets called on the carpet."

"It's not always at eight," he replied with a grin. "Once it was in the afternoon."

"Still…you know, if you want the boss to notice you, sometimes it's smart to do something good."

"I'm just having a bad run. You on the other hand…"

He trailed off and looked at me expectantly and I felt a rush of anxiety over what he might know.

Did Bobby say something to him?

Maybe…but _when_? We've barely been out of each other's sight since Saturday night.

So maybe it's just because of what Bobby said…that Logan _thinks_ we're sleeping together.

Of course now we _are_…

"Me, what?"

He pointed at my neck and then lowered his voice and said, "You must be on a really good run. I mean, judging by that thing on your neck."

It's a damn good thing I've got willpower because with every fiber of my being I wanted to look.

Because Bobby most definitely spent some quality time with his lips on my throat. Saturday night…Sunday…earlier this morning…

_Don't think about that right now,_ I chastised myself.

"Yeah, sure," I replied with forced casualness. "I look and then you think you know how I spent my weekend. I'm not that easy to dupe."

"Hey, I'm just trying to be a friend here," he responded easily. "I figured you might want to button up a little more, try to hide that hickey before the captain sees it. You don't really want him to start thinking about you like that do you?"

Ross.

My biggest concern with this new relationship.

I have a good feeling that he'll go ballistic if he finds out. Not that I _plan_ on him finding out.

Of course, if I go into his office sporting a hickey...

But still, he can't stand Bobby and he _likes_ me so he'd never guess that my new lover is Bobby. And I hate that Ross thinks so little of Bobby that he'd dismiss him that easily, but he _would_ and it works to our benefit.

I managed to smile at Logan, brushing off his tease as I went back to work, but I watched him with my peripheral vision and as soon as he turned around, I attempted to look at my neck.

"Gotcha," I heard him say, and I looked up to find him grinning at me smugly.

I threw my pen at him, but as he walked away, I had to chuckle. I should've known he was only messing with me.

"What are you laughing about?" Bobby asked in a hushed tone as he came up behind me.

"Logan. Don't ask," I said as I pulled the collar of my blouse closer together. I'm going to have to make a trip to the ladies' room in a minute so that I can quit worrying about what may or may not be on my neck.

"Oh, I'm asking. But you can tell me later," he said confidently as I turned around in my chair. I reached for the coffee he was holding out, but he pulled it back slightly and said, "Uh uh. Where's my payment?"

"For free coffee?"

"For the delivery," he declared with a boyish grin.

I absolutely love him like this. And I know it won't be like this all the time but seeing him happy, knowing it's because of me...that's a damn good feeling.

"I'll buy your lunch," I offered.

He looked thoughtful for a minute and then reached past my outstretched hand to set the cup on my desk. His movement allowed his mouth to come close to my ear, and when it did, he whispered, "I was hoping I'd be having _you_ for lunch."

The words barely registered before he was back around to his side of the desks, sitting down in his chair with a nonchalant expression on his face.

As for me, I'm hot and bothered just from his proximity and suggestive remark.

I don't know why I thought it would be easy to work with him.

Although really, I didn't think it _would_ be all that easy. I actually thought he'd be over-the-top cool and disinterested in an effort to disguise our relationship, and that would've been tough.

But he's the complete opposite and it's so wonderfully torturous.

It's like we have this shared secret that's bonding us even closer together.

And I guess we do. I just never guessed that Bobby could be so light-hearted and…well, _fun_.

I mean, the sex is…incredible. Better than that, even. I'm not sure there's a word good enough to describe it.

I've never been with a man with so much stamina and passion. We didn't use all four of those condoms before leaving Atlantic City, but they're definitely long gone by now. And we're halfway through another box.

Bobby's adventurous, too. And spontaneous. And licentious in the most arousing ways.

This morning, I was in his kitchen making coffee. I just finished pouring in the water, and then I pushed the button and stepped back to wait for it to brew when I heard Bobby come into the room.

I turned around as he approached, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. His hair was still damp from the shower and he smelled strongly of soap and wet skin and I was immediately hit with the urge to wrap my arms around him and bury my nose against his chest.

But I guess he was hit with a different kind of urge.

Without saying a word, he picked me up and set me on the counter and then pushed my legs apart so that he could stand between them. I'd been dressed only in one of his t-shirts, but he quickly pulled that off of me and then looked me over hungrily before taking my face in his hands and kissing me thoroughly.

I tightened my thighs against his hips and then tried to tug off his towel using my feet, but he pulled back and shook his head, flashing me a predatory smile and then he slowly kissed his way down my throat.

He kept moving downward, stopping briefly to lavish attention on my breasts, and then he continued the southerly track until he was just _right there_ and I could barely catch my breath as he put the full focus of his concentration on me.

His hands were on my backside, holding me to him, and his beard brushed enticingly along my inner thighs as he skillfully worked his mouth over me, and I could feel the release building with delicious intensity, and I guess he could feel it, too, because he redoubled his efforts as my breathing quickened and my skin flushed and then the nearly overwhelming ecstasy rolled through me as every part of my body was tingling with pleasure.

It took me a minute to realize that I had a fairly tight hold on his hair, and it took me another minute to actually let go.

"_I'm sorry,"_ he said softly as he kissed his way back up my body.

"_You're sorry? Are you kidding me?"_ I asked, and I had to laugh.

He grinned at me as he pushed my hair back from my face and then he said, "_I mean for just attacking you like that. But I was in the shower and I was thinking about doing that to you, and…"_

"_Lucky for me I was in the vicinity_," I answered with a smile. Then I glanced down at him and said, "_But you know, you can't go to work like __**that**__."_

"_I was hoping you'd say that_."

Which is how we ended up making love in the kitchen. This morning. Right before work.

Even before we were married, Joe and I did ninety-five percent of our love-making at night, in the bedroom, with the door closed and the lights off.

And again, I know – Bobby and I have only been _together_ together for thirty-six hours, so who knows? Maybe the passion will taper off.

I looked at him across the desk, where he was studying a file while sitting back in his chair, with one foot resting on the opposite thigh and a pencil twirling thoughtfully between his fingers…

Yeah, I don't see the desire going away any time soon.

At least not on my part.

He must have felt my eyes on him because he suddenly glanced up and his lips quirked into a knowing smile and then he looked down at the file again, but just that brief connection has me buzzing all over.

_It's a good thing Logan's still in Ross' office, because I have no doubt that if he looked at me right now, he'd just **know**. _

But as I was saying, as amazing as the sex is, it's so much more than that. We've actually been having conversations. About important stuff…personal stuff. And I think I've laughed more in the past two days than I have in the last two _years_.

"So what do you think it was this time?" Bobby said quietly to me as Logan came out of the captain's office.

"Logan?"

"Yeah. I mean, nobody gets in that much trouble, not even me."

I watched as Logan went back to his desk where Wheeler was waiting for him.

"Good point," I agreed. "But at least it looks like he's sharing with his partner now."

"Well, I _did_ give him that bit of advice," he replied with a hesitant smile.

"So he taught you the birds and the bees and you taught him to make nice with his partner? I'm not sure that's a fair trade," I teased.

"We didn't talk about sex," he insisted in a whisper. "You know, I have done it once or twice before."

"I'm sure I don't want to know about that," I said with a roll of my eyes. And I didn't mean to get into the topic of past experience. Not so much because I care about his, but I don't want to get into mine. That kind of discussion rarely ever ends well.

And…yeah, okay, I _do_ care about his. I don't like even thinking about him being with anyone else.

"Before but never again. I mean, with anyone else," he said meaningfully, holding my gaze from across our desks.

And there's that feeling again.

I love that I get it just as often from the things he _says_ as I do from the things he _does_.

_Never again_, I repeated in my head as a smile crossed my face.

Meaning…he has long-term plans for us.

We haven't really talked about that aspect and yet it doesn't surprise me. I certainly wouldn't be an easy or convenient choice for him to have anything _less_ than long-term.

He cares too much about our working relationship to risk ruining it with a fling.

Wheeler's voice broke through my thoughts as she shouted, "What?"

I shushed her as Bobby glanced over his shoulder and then cleared his throat after seeing Ross move towards the doorway.

Logan and Wheeler lowered the decibel on their conversation, and then left a few minutes later, so Bobby and I got back to work.

Well, sort of.

"Are we good?" he asked under his breath.

"You mean am I now thinking about other women you may or may not have slept with?" I asked wryly. And yes, I'm only teasing him. We've come so far in the short time since that undercover fiasco…there's no way I'm going to get angry at him for something like this.

The man has a past. So do I. End of story.

Besides, he spent too much time _not_ talking to me before, so I'm never going to bust his balls for speaking up. That's not to say I won't get angry with him at some point, but when I do, then we'll _talk_.

As he waited for my response, he put his forearms on his desk, leaning across so that we were slightly closer to each other, but then another detective passed by, so I picked up the case file again, and as I stared blindly at it, I had the crazy thought that maybe we should start passing notes, like we're in middle school or something.

And then I figured that times have changed, right?

So I pulled out my cell phone.

_**We are so much better than good. Your apartment is about twenty minutes, round trip, right?**_

Without looking at Bobby, I put my phone down on my desk and concentrated on my paperwork, and as I heard his phone buzz, I wanted to look up at him, to see his face, but I didn't.

Although I could see it in my mind.

His brow furrowed as he clicks on the text message…his tongue sliding over his bottom lip as he reads my words…a quick flicker of his eyes over to me as the meaning of what I'm suggesting sinks in…a slight, mischievous smile as he types out a reply…

My phone buzzed right on cue.

I picked it up with forced indifference and glanced at the message.

_**Hmm…I wonder how many times I can make you scream in forty minutes.**_

My skin flushed as I thought about how easily he can make me come, and how much he loves that I'm so vocal about it.

_How many times in forty minutes_, I asked myself as I typed my reply:

_**I have no idea, but I can't wait to find out.**_

I set my phone down and tried to get back to business, but after a few seconds, it buzzed again.

_**I'm guessing four, but maybe five if I start on you while we're in the car.**_

I honestly had no idea that Bobby would be like this.

I love it.

Before I could respond, my phone signaled another text.

_**What color today? You got dressed before I got to see**_.

I'm never going to get any work done.

Of course, it's just paperwork. We wrapped up our case with the arrest Saturday night, and Ross hasn't given us anything new, so…

_**Red. Satin. Front hook.**_

I heard him exhale heavily as he read my words, and then my phone buzzed immediately.

_**And the panties?**_

I bit back a smirk as I typed:

_**You think I wouldn't make a point to match, now that there's a chance of you undressing me?**_

His chair creaked as he sat back and it's killing me not to look at him, but we're already being wildly inappropriate. But still…I'll just blame it on the newness of our relationship.

Besides, it's been too damn long since we've had this much fun at work and considering how many hours we spend _actually_ working, who's it really going to hurt if we play around a little during slack time?

I shuffled some papers around and then picked up my phone to read his latest.

_**I'm just checking to see if you're wearing any today. And for the record, there isn't just a chance of it…it WILL happen.**_

If I'm wearing any?

Ah…the hotel Saturday night. That really threw him, when he slipped his hands inside my shorts and encountered nothing at all. What can I say? When I get comfortable for the night, I like going without. It's not like I expected him to discover my little secret.

Although I guess the possibility _was_ in the back of my mind, since I did take the time that night for the fastest leg-shaving in history. Thank God I did, too, since his hands roamed over every inch of me.

I sighed and closed my eyes as the titillating memory washed over me.

_He has the nicest hands…so big and gentle and talented._

_And you're at work, _I reminded myself sharply.

I need to quit acting like a lovesick teenager.

I typed a reply, so as not to leave Bobby hanging.

_**Yes, I am, and yes, they match. Now get back to work.**_

In five seconds, my phone buzzed.

_**How am I supposed to concentrate now? **_

I chanced a look at him and rolled my eyes and then replied.

_**Fake it. We've got three hours until lunch.**_

He responded:

_**I never fake anything. Do you?**_

A laugh escaped before I could stop it, and I shook my head as I looked at him with contrived reproach, pointing my finger at the file on his desk and putting an end to our texting.

At least for the time being.

Over the next several days, we did a lot of the same thing. Teasing and joking and seducing via text while we did our best to complete mindless paperwork.

And every day, our lunch breaks were spent at his place.

Every _night_ was spent at his place.

And we bought another box of condoms. A bigger one, one that we thought might last us a while longer and yet by Friday, we'd nearly gone through that one, too.

Apparently, we both have a lot of catching up to do when it comes to carnal activities.

The entire week was like a dream. In fact, things were going so unbelievably well that I started to worry.

And I know. That sounds more like a Bobby thing to do, but I can't help it.

Life can't be _this_ good, can it?

On Friday, Bobby and I helped out another pair of detectives, since we're still without a case.

"Can you believe Ross does this for the hell of it?" Hayward said as he handed me yet another stack of LUDs.

"Does what?" I questioned.

"Looks at LUDs," he answered. "You know, the department-issued cells."

"He monitors our phones?" I asked sharply.

"Yeah, Eames, so don't send your boyfriend any nudie shots," Hayward said on a laugh. "You'll give Ross a fucking heart attack, right?"

Bobby glared at Hayward and then glanced over at me and I can see the worry on his face, and I know mine probably looks the same.

Does he only look at the numbers, or does he get the log of texts, too? And why would he do that? What's he looking for?

I thought back over every x-rated thing I texted to Bobby this week and I suddenly started to feel sick.

"I'll be right back," Bobby mumbled as he got up from his chair, and I glanced over to see that Logan was back from lunch, and Bobby was heading in his direction.

Maybe he thinks Logan knows something about it, I don't know.

"Can you talk?" I heard him say to Logan.

But before Logan could respond, Ross shouted from across the room.

"Goren! Eames!"

Logan looked at me and chuckled as he asked, "What were you saying about Mondays and Fridays, Eames?"

"I'm sure we just pulled a case," I replied easily, but on the inside, the fear rolled through me at an alarming rate.

_Is this it?_

Are we _really_ going to be busted by something as simple as Ross spying on his detectives' LUDs?

"Uh huh. I don't know…he's standing in the doorway," Logan said playfully. I'm sure he has no idea how scared I am right now, and I can't even begin to tease back.

Instead, I glanced worriedly at Bobby and I can tell he's about to go into vapor lock, which means I need to do the talking when we go into Ross' office.

What am I going to say?

Will he believe me if I say it's all one big joke? That we knew he was going to see them, so we decided to mess with him?

"I've got four words for you, Eames," Logan said under his breath as I neared his desk.

I noticed his gaze went briefly to Bobby and then back to me, and now I can tell that he sees my panic and he suspects we might be in trouble for something.

He probably even suspects _what_ we might be in trouble _for_ and I honestly don't care at all if _he_ knows as long as Ross doesn't know.

"Yeah?" I asked, waiting to hear his words of wisdom because Lord knows he's been in enough trouble lately and yet he still has a job, so...

He nodded at me encouragingly, in a way that somehow eased my anxiety just a little, and then he said, "Lie your ass off."

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I don't know what I was thinking.

It was careless and selfish and arrogant.

What made me think we could get away with this?

How could I put her career at risk?

_Because you were thinking with your dick_, I pointed out cynically.

_No, I wasn't_, I mentally argued back. _I'm in love with her. Sex has nothing to do with it_.

_If you're in love with her, then how could you jeopardize her livelihood?_

_It was her choice, too, _I insisted lamely as I heard Logan say to Eames, "Lie your ass off."

See, I had that entire argument in my head over a span of about five seconds, directly following Ross' barking out of our names.

Because I know that tone of voice.

We're in trouble.

And after Hayward's comment about the LUD's, it's no secret as to the reason for _why_ we're in trouble.

I knew this was coming.

It's been too good.

_Good? _

It's been downright phenomenal.

Nearly an entire week of the equivalent of wedded bliss.

We've been working together and _not_ working together.

Talking, laughing, making love…it's been just like a goddamn romance novel.

And now it's over because Ross is going to reprimand us and then tell us we have to end it or one of us has to transfer, and I'll never let _her_ leave and I know she won't let me leave either.

We've both worked so hard to get here.

_But we worked hard to find happiness, too._

"Stop," she said to me under her breath as we headed for the executioner.

"Stop what?" I mumbled back.

"Mourning our demise," she replied as she cast me a purposeful look. "It'll be fine. Just let me handle it."

"Alex," I said, and then I caught myself and said, "Eames. You know he knows."

"He only knows what we admit to, and I'm not in the mood for confessing anything today, are you?"

"Well, no."

"Good. Then trust me, okay?"

"You know I do."

I wanted to ask her about her plan, but by this point, we'd arrived at Ross' office, where he was still standing in the doorway.

"Everything alright?" he asked us.

"It's fine," she responded immediately. "What's up?"

"Come on in and close the door," he replied as he turned around and went over to his desk.

With his back to us, I quickly glanced at her again and she nodded at me encouragingly.

How can she be so calm about this?

Just yesterday I sent her a text that said _**you think anyone would notice if we sneak off to the supply closet for a quickie?**_

And I was only kidding, but still...what if Ross read _that_?

I was flooded with panic as I followed Alex into the room.

"Have a seat," Ross stated, gesturing towards the chairs while he took a seat behind his desk.

_I'll just quit_, I decided suddenly. I'm not letting her go. There's no way I can go back to living without her.

"So," he began once Alex and I were both seated across from him. "This is a first, huh?"

"A first," Alex repeated carefully.

"Uh huh. How long has it been? Since Saturday night?"

_Is he really going to quiz us about this? _

"I'm not sure I get what you mean," Alex responded, and I love how she can be so composed because I'm dying a million deaths at the moment, but she's just sitting there, holding his stare and not breaking a sweat.

"Nearly an entire week without a case," Ross explained as his gaze bounced over to me and he flashed me a condescending smile. "You must be ready to explode."

A case. He's talking about a case. Which means…he hasn't seen our texts?

We're _not_ in trouble?

"Um…well, I…"

"So you have one for us now, or did you bring us in here just to tease us?" Alex interrupted, saving me from myself.

Ross' attention moved back to her and this time he smiled for real.

"Maybe," he answered. "It looks like a suicide at first glance, but I'd like you two to check it out before we dismiss it."

"Okay, good," she replied. "I was starting to get saddles sores."

Ross chuckled but then said, "Honestly, I had you sidelined on purpose. I needed to make sure that everything is…well, that you're back in rhythm again after…"

He trailed off without saying the dreaded word _undercover_, but I still resent him for bringing it up at all. It was on his order that I kept Alex out of the loop. And yeah, it's my fault for following his order, but still…I think he was just trying to put a wedge between us and he almost succeeded.

"We're perfectly fine, Captain," Alex answered.

"Glad to hear it."

_Liar. _

But this entire situation has me feeling both relieved and concerned.

We dodged a bullet this time, but what about next time?

I mean, obviously we'll stop the sexting on department phones, but how else might we get caught?

Will we run into him while we're out to dinner?

Will he pull up next to us at a stoplight?

"So take a quick trip over to Manor Hill," Ross was saying. "Assess the situation and then let me know what you think."

"Yes, sir," Alex said as she got up from her chair. I stood up, too, but then paused when Ross spoke up again.

"You two know anything about what's going on with Logan?"

"He seems fine to me," Alex said dismissively, but then Ross shifted his focus to me, so I held his gaze and answered confidently, "He's good. Why?"

To my surprise, Ross let out a heavy sigh and leaned back in his chair.

"I'm worried about him," he said. "And I almost did something I have no business doing."

He reached out and picked up a thick stack of papers from his desk and then flopped them back down again.

"I pulled the records for the department cell phones."

_Here it comes._

Somewhere in this stack might be my message to Alex from this morning, when we first got to work.

_**You might want to do one more button – your skin is still chafed. Want me to shave my beard?**_

And her response.

_**No, I like it. And since when do you tell me to button instead of unbutton?**_

"You're snooping through our text messages?" Alex asked with heavy reproach, and then she shook her head in disappointment as she said, "Captain…"

I'm so glad that she's still able to handle this conversation because I can't. I'm about a split second away from walking over to his desk and scribbling out my resignation on his blotter. But instead, I think I'll stand here and put my trust in Alex to handle whatever he throws at us.

He looked properly remorseful, but also indignant as he answered, "Not the texts themselves. Just the numbers. I'm afraid he might be mixed up in something, and that he's in over his head."

"And what'd you find?"

"Nothing. I haven't looked. I don't think I can cross that line."

"Good choice," Alex said firmly. "And I really think Logan's fine. Bobby's planning to meet up with him tonight for drinks, right Bobby?"

I am?

I've been trying to meet him for weeks now, but yeah, okay…tonight. Although that means what? Alex isn't coming over? She needs a break from me? This thing scared her as much as it did me?

The negative thoughts stormed through my head at an alarming rate, but I managed to stifle them.

She doesn't want a break from me.

She loves me.

"Right," I answered as she chucked me with her elbow, presumably to prompt a response. "I'll pump him for information and see what I can get. If he's in some kind of trouble, I'll find out."

Ross nodded crisply and then picked up the stack of papers and tossed it into his trashcan.

"Thank you, Detectives. Keep me in the loop on this Manor Hill thing."

And just like that, we were dismissed.

And we're still in the clear.

We left his office, heading for our desks to grab our things before making the drive to the academy.

"Eames," I began, although I'm not sure what was going to come next.

_Eames, don't break up with me over this near-miss…_

_Eames, I'm going to go ahead and quit so that we don't have to deal with the paranoia…_

_Eames, I'm sorry I confessed my love for you because even though it precluded the best week of my entire life, it also could've been the reason for you to be censured and pigeon-holed into the kind of woman who sleeps with her partner…_

_Eames…_

"Just wait," she said quietly. She picked up her keys and grabbed her jacket, and then I followed her to the elevator.

Once the doors closed and we were alone, she closed her eyes and exhaled heavily.

"You're about to freak out, aren't you?" she asked, her eyes still shut.

"About to? I'd say I got there about fifteen minutes ago."

"And?"

"And what?"

She tilted her head back and settled those whiskey-colored eyes on mine as she looked at me sadly and asked, "What life-altering conclusion have you reached?"

"I…"

But that's all I could say before the elevator stopped on the fifth floor. We were joined by a throng of people who stepped between us, so for the rest of the ride down to the parking garage, she was on one side of the car and I was on the other.

The distance was negligible and yet metaphorically devastating because I _need_ that connection with her to help me find solid ground again.

I _know_ she wants to be with me - I'm not really worried about that. At least, I'm not now that I've had a moment to settle down.

But I am worried about what's best for _her_.

After an interminable amount of time, the doors opened in the garage and everyone spilled out, but we still didn't talk again until we were ensconced in the privacy of the SUV.

"Do you know what kind of reputation you'd get?" I posed.

"You mean if it's discovered that I'm sleeping with you? I'm sure it'd be varied."

I quirked a dubious eyebrow at her and she added, "Women would either be jealous or impressed. The men would probably just make crude jokes."

"And your superiors would be disappointed," I stated. "Not just because I'm your partner, but because I'm _me_."

"And you think I care about that?"

"Yes."

"Okay, let me rephrase that. You think I care about _that_ more than I do _you_?"

And I guess that's the thing, isn't it?

I'm making her choose between me and her career.

And even if I win, how is that fair?

"Bobby," she said on a sigh. "We had a close call, but Ross still doesn't know a thing. So we quit flirting with the department phones, but otherwise, nothing has to change."

She started the car and backed out of the parking space and then when I still didn't respond, she said, "Unless you want it to change. Is that what you're saying?"

"No," I said immediately, and as she cleared the department garage, I reached my hand over and settled it on her thigh. "I love you. You know that."

"But that's not always enough, is it?" she replied, her gaze focused on the road.

"Pull over."

"What?"

"Right there," I said as I pointed at an empty parking spot along the curb.

She did as I asked and then put the car in park and shifted in her seat to look at me.

"I don't want anything to change," I said purposefully as I reached for her hand. I clasped my fingers through hers and then brought our joined hands to my lips, kissing her knuckles lightly before settling our hands on my leg. "And I'm sorry for freaking out. It's just that I don't want to be the cause of damage to your career."

"I made the decision to risk it, just like you did," she answered. "And I know how important it is to stay under the radar, so we'll both just have to be a little more careful. But you know, Logan gave me some good advice earlier."

"What's that?"

"He said to lie my ass off. And I will, if we get caught. Well, I mean, unless we're _really_ caught. But you know what I'm saying. I have no problem lying to Ross to preserve our partnership."

I nodded at her as the knot in my chest began to loosen just a little.

She doesn't regret anything.

And she doesn't blame me.

And maybe we _can_ have both the partnership and the relationship.

"Okay," I agreed.

She flashed me a smile and said, "So which text was sticking out in your mind while Ross was talking?"

I smiled back and answered, "The one where I suggested a quickie in the supply closet."

She laughed and let go of my hand and for a split second, I was disappointed, but then she reached over and put her palm against my cheek, making sure I was looking right at her.

"I like my job. A lot. But I love you."

And then she leaned over the console and pressed her lips against mine, giving me a slow, arousing kiss.

"Besides," she said once she pulled away. "He won't fire us. He probably won't even transfer us. We'll just have to work with a different partner. And who knows? Maybe he'd stick you with Logan. That wouldn't be so bad, would it?"

She put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb, and just like that, we were mostly back to being us again.

Except I can't help but worry on the inside.

Would it be that simple? Just new partners? Not that I'm making light of it, because I'd hate not being her partner, but like she said…if it's a choice between partners or lovers, there's not really a choice to be made.

But what if she's wrong? What if there's a scandal or a demotion or…something else that damages her good name?

I thought about it off and on for most of the afternoon, but then I pushed it out of my mind while Alex and I went out for dinner, but afterwards, the anxiety came back, probably because she left me alone.

"Call Logan," she told me as we left the restaurant. "You could use a guy's night out. And my sister's been pestering me all week, so I'll drop by her place and make nice for a couple of hours while you two have a few beers."

"Okay," I agreed. "You'll come by later?"

"I don't know. You think Ross is staking out your apartment, hoping to catch us in a compromising position?"

"Alex…" I chastised lightly.

"Too soon to make jokes about it?" she asked in amusement, and I don't know how she can be so blasé about it, but she really seems to not care at all.

I guess I need to take a cue from her.

"Come over," I stated as I wrapped my arms around her. "We'll just have to make sure we don't start stripping each other down until we're behind closed doors."

I spent several minutes kissing her goodbye and then I wandered over to Delaney's. I went inside and found an empty barstool and then pulled out my cell phone and called Logan.

"Let's go get that beer," I said when he answered.

"I can't."

"Come on," I urged. "One hour."

"I wish I could. Really."

"You're working?" I asked.

"In a manner of speaking."

"So your girlfriend's banned you from seeing your friends. Even I know that's not a healthy relationship," I prodded. I can't imagine that's the case, but maybe he'll open up in order to correct my misconception.

He chuckled and said, "That's not it. I promise."

Hmm…so maybe he's not going to open up. He's got my curiosity through the roof now because it's really not like him to be so secretive.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Where are you?"

"Delaney's on Ninth."

"Then have a beer and we'll talk," he suggested.

So he's too busy to meet me, but not too busy to talk on the phone.

Interesting.

And he apparently doesn't want to talk about what's going on with him, but he does want to _talk_.

Meaning he wants to talk about me.

And knowing him, he'll want to talk about Eames, too.

Although after today, maybe that's not such a bad idea. I've got a lot churning around in my brain. And she's given me her permission to tell him the truth about us.

"_He figured us out before we did,"_ she reasoned while we were at dinner. "_May as well let him in on our secret."_

"_Are you sure?"_

"_Can you picture Logan selling us out to the brass?"_

"_No,"_ I replied immediately.

"_Exactly. He's one of the good guys. And he's your friend, right?"_

"_And yours," _I pointed out.

"_True. Does that bother you?"_

"_That you have a male friend? No."_

"_Just checking. Yeah, I like him a lot. And I think it's good for you to have someone to talk to besides me. So sure, tell him about us. Just don't give details or anything."_

I had fun with that one, teasing her about the things I might tell him, but of course, I won't, and she knows it.

"Yeah, sure," I said to Logan, and then I ordered a beer from the loitering bartender before asking, "Okay, so…how's it going?"

"Great. You?"

"Great."

"How's Eames?" he questioned.

_Cutting straight to the point, huh, Logan?_

But for some reason, I'm hesitant to start this discussion.

What if he tells me I should back off? I mean, he likes her. He won't want to see her career damaged, either.

"Great," I answered casually.

"Did you two get in trouble today?"

"Nope. New case. A supposed suicide that's not."

"But you thought you might be in trouble," he prompted.

"It's always a possibility. I mean, it's me. And you know how Ross feels about me."

_Which might actually be a good thing_, I realized suddenly. Because he thinks I'm a breakdown waiting to happen, so would he consider that Alex might look at me differently?

Or does he think she just tolerates me out of loyalty?

It's an interesting question.

"Uh huh," Logan responded, and then he paused for a moment before saying, "Hey, Goren?"

"Yeah?"

"It's not that I don't like talking to you, but since I might have to hang up on you any minute, if you want to talk about something, you'd better spit it out."

"What would I want to talk about?"

"Last weekend."

"What about it?"

And I know exactly what he wants me to talk about, but this whole guy-friend thing is foreign to me. Not completely, because of course I've had friends in the past, but for the last few years, it's mostly just been me and Eames.

Opening up to someone else feels…like cheating.

_But she encouraged you to talk to Logan_, I reminded myself.

He sighed loudly and then said, "Atlantic City. You. Eames. The fact that she's looked happier this week than I've ever seen her."

He's noticed how happy she looks?

I like the sound of that. It means it's not just my imagination. I _do_ make her happy.

And he sounds…positive about it.

Not only that, but he's partly responsible for me finding the courage to come clean with Alex last Saturday night.

_He's on my side._

"This has to be between us," I said at last.

"Who would I tell?"

"Wheeler."

"No way."

"The new girlfriend. Whoever she is."

Call me paranoid, but I can't help it. Sometimes even New York can be a small world, and since I have no idea who his girlfriend is…

"I won't tell her. But I'm hoping that maybe in a couple more weeks, we can get together."

"You and her?" I asked, and he started laughing.

"No. You, me, her and Eames."

"You mean like a double date?"

What would Alex think about that? Us, going out like a normal couple…with another normal couple. I'm having trouble even picturing it.

"Goren, you're the smartest guy I know. You know damn well what I'm saying."

"I'm not…I don't…" I stumbled, still stuck on the image of me and Alex out, doing something clichéd like bowling or seeing a movie. But I'll come back to that. For now, there's something else I need to confirm. "You really think she's looked happy this week?"

"Deliriously, in an Eames kind of way. So…"

I interrupted him with the other thing I've been dreading yet dying to ask.

"You think it's a bad idea? I mean, if we get caught, it could hurt her career."

_If he says yes…_

But he didn't. Instead he reminded me that it's my career, too. And he sounded just like Alex when he added, "So don't get caught."

Alex is right. He's one of the good guys.

"My time's up, so cut to the chase. Did you apologize in AC?" he asked me.

"Yeah."

"Did you tell her that you're in love with her?"

"How do you know that I am?"

"Did you hear me say I'm out of time here? Don't yank my chain. You're the one who wanted to talk this out. So did you tell her or not?"

"Yeah, I told her," I admitted.

"And?"

"And…"

_She kissed me, and then I made her come, and then we realized we didn't have a condom…_

I can't say that.

"And did one of the AC hotel rooms go unused?" he asked.

_Yes, and the other was used extensively_, I thought with a smile as I took a sip of my beer.

Of course, that's not what I said. Instead, I said, "Yeah. You think it's a mistake?"

"I think the only mistake you made was waiting so many years to tell her. So don't screw it up by backtracking, and don't worry about Ross, okay?"

_How can I not worry about Ross? _

Although he doesn't look like _he's_ too worried about Ross these days.

And his backtracking remark…it's an excellent point, but I've got a lot more bad habits than just backtracking.

And how long before the newness wears off and my ticks start getting on her nerves?

"Backtracking's only one way I can screw this up," I stated with uncertainty.

And then I thought about where Alex is tonight. With her sister. Is she telling her about us? Will her sister tell her that she's crazy for sleeping with her partner?

"Okay, um…Sunday afternoon, okay?" Logan said, interrupting my despairing thoughts. "We'll get together, I promise, and we'll talk more. Until then, talk to her. And don't create so damn many doomsday scenarios in your head."

Busted.

And he's exactly right. Any worries or concerns that I have need to be discussed with Alex. Isn't that what I already promised her? That we'll talk and be honest about everything.

_Get it together, Goren. _

I shook my head at my own ridiculousness and chuckled self-deprecatingly as I asked him, "What makes you think that's what I'm doing?"

"Because we're a lot alike. And I hate to ditch you, but I've got to see a guy about a horse."

"What?" I questioned loudly, but I was left with dial tone.

A guy about a horse?

What the hell is he up to?

I don't know, but he sounds happy.

And I'm feeling a lot better, too, now that I shared some of my concerns.

I _am_ good for Alex.

And I'm making her happy.

And Ross is just…well, a potential speed bump.

We'll worry about what comes next when and if we ever get caught.

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

**Alex POV**

* * *

By Monday, things were back to normal.

And I don't mean they were back to the way they were before Bobby and I started sleeping together.

I mean they were back to the way they were before we thought we were caught.

For a little while, on Friday afternoon, I was worried that he wouldn't snap out of it.

And I get that he was concerned because Lord knows I was sweating bullets while sitting in Ross' office, but still…we're responsible, consenting adults.

And I'm not about to let Ross dictate my love life.

There's nothing that says two detectives in the same department can't fraternize. Relationships are just discouraged between _partners_.

And like I told Bobby in the car, the worst case scenario is that we'll have to stop being partners, and even though I'd much rather keep working with him so I'll do everything I can to avoid having that happen, what I'm _not_ going to do is let it be a bucket of cold water on our relationship.

Friday evening, we had a nice dinner together, and then I sent Bobby off to meet up with Logan while I paid my sister a visit.

"_So what's his name?"_

That's what she asked me once my nephew was tucked into bed and my brother-in-law wandered to the living room, leaving the two of us alone in the kitchen. She handed me a glass of wine and looked at me expectantly.

And yeah, I knew she'd sniff me out, but that doesn't mean I was going to cave easily.

"_What do you mean?"_ I replied coyly.

"_Oh, come on, Alex,"_ she said with a dramatic eye roll. "_I was just telling Jimmy a couple of weeks ago that you need to get laid more than any person I know."_

"_Why would you say that?"_ I asked, working hard not to be embarrassed by the fact that my sister and her husband were discussing my sex life, or lack thereof.

"_It's true,"_ she answered unrepentantly. "_Although…it's not anymore, is it?"_

She leaned over the island counter and waggled her eyebrows at me as she added in a hushed tone, "_And it must be good because I don't remember ever seeing you this happy, so I need details."_

Of course, I didn't give details. Or at least, not many. But we talked like we were sixteen again and polished off the bottle of wine and it was the most fun I've had with her in a long time.

But I still didn't cough up his name.

I guess I was a little nervous about what she'd think.

I mean, she _knows_ Bobby and she knows it's not a good idea for partners to get involved with one another and she knows how upset I was with him during his suspension, so for the moment, I didn't say and she didn't ask again after that first time.

At ten-thirty, I pulled out my cell phone. I was hoping to have a text from Bobby, letting me know he was done with Logan, but there were no messages. Although knowing him, he wouldn't want to interrupt my time with my sister, so…

I typed him a quick message, mindful of the possibility that Ross might read it.

_**How did it go with Logan? **_

"_You're texting him now? Are you going to see him when you leave here?"_

I set my phone down and flashed my sister a smile as I picked up my wine glass.

"_I've been staying at his place,"_ I admitted, and then I steeled myself for her response as I said, "_It's Bobby. He's who I'm seeing."_

"_Well, yeah,"_ she replied as though my admission were about the dumbest statement I could've possibly made.

"_You knew it was him?"_

"_Alex,_" she sighed as she shook her head at me. "_This is the first time in years that we've talked for more than five minutes without his name coming up once, so I figured it was either because you cut him loose, which we both know you'd never do, or it was intentional because it's __**him**__ and since you said you're spending the night at his place…well, you wouldn't do that unless it was someone you really trust, which means it has to be Bobby."_

"_You should've been a detective,"_ I said smartly.

"_Yeah, well it doesn't take a detective to see how much you care about him_," she answered, setting her glass down and coming around the island to give me a hug.

"_I do, a lot,"_ I assured her. "_I'm in love with him."_

"_And he makes you happy. I think it's great, Alex."_

"_Really?"_

"_Did you honestly think I'd care about that don't-fuck-your-partner rule?"_ she asked, her bluntness catching me off guard and causing me to burst into laughter.

"_No, I guess not,"_ I said.

"_That's right. You're happy. He's happy. And you're getting some on a regular basis, so…good for you."_

After that, I got a text from Bobby telling me that he was already back at home, so I said goodbye to my sister and hopped the subway back to his place.

A split second after I knocked on the door, he had it open, pulling me inside and into his arms.

"_I'm sorry about today_," he said as he hugged me.

"_There's nothing to be sorry about."_

"_I panicked,"_ he pointed out. "_I almost messed things up between us."_

"_We're fine," _I insisted confidently, moving my hands down to his butt, sliding underneath the waistband of his sweatpants, and that's when I discovered he wasn't wearing anything else. A jolt of excitement rolled through me as I remarked, "_No underwear?"_

"_I'm ready for bed,"_ he responded reasonably. I pulled back just enough so that I could look up at him and found him smiling playfully at me. _"Hey, if you can do it, then I can do it."_

Then he brought his lips down to mine and it was so nice…almost as if the near-miss with Ross was bringing us even closer together. And maybe it did because now Bobby knows for sure just exactly how important he is to me and that whatever happens with our jobs isn't going to change _us_.

He also knows that I'm not going to quit on him just because he has a moment of insecurity. I'm not going to quit on him at all, ever. I think he's been worried that he's going to make a mistake that'll send me packing, and he really needs to let go of that fear.

I don't think he's quite there yet, but he's making a lot of progress.

That night, we made love right there in the foyer, and then we went to bed and we rehashed the day's events, in regards to Ross, just to make sure it was all out in the open.

And then he told me about his conversation with Logan.

"_So now he knows about us, huh?"_

_ "He knew anyway."_

_ "Yeah, but now you've confirmed it. What'd you say?"_

_ "Not much. Just that you're an insatiable nymphomaniac with kinky, dominatrix tendencies…"_

That was all he managed to say before I pounced on him, holding him captive beneath me on the bed.

_"Are you supposed to be scary?"_ he teased, and I was thrilled to see the mischievousness in his eyes.

"_You're going to see scary if that's really what you said to him."_

_ "I didn't,"_ he said, and then his laughter trailed off as he said, "_Actually, we talked more about how I might screw things up."_

_ "You won't."_

_ "You're more sure than I am,"_ he said with wonder as he traced random patterns along my thighs.

"_If you stop talking to me, things might get difficult_," I said earnestly.

"_So you want to hear about every worry and doubt that rolls through my head?"_

_ "Of course, because most of the time, your subconscious is full of shit,"_ I answered with a smile. "_And it's my job to point that out."_

He smiled briefly and then said, "_Okay, so…tell me what your sister said. I mean, you told her about us, didn't you?"_

"_You're worried she might not approve?"_

He shrugged, but held my gaze as he continued caressing my legs.

"_Well, for the record, I didn't tell her because I was seeking her approval, and whatever her opinion is of you doesn't change mine."_

He nodded, but didn't say anything as he waited for me to tell him what he wanted to know.

"_She guessed that it was you. In fact, she guessed that there was someone before I even said anything. And she's excited. She actually pumped me for details."_

"_And you said…"_

"_What else? You're an insatiable nymphomaniac…"_

I couldn't get the whole sentence out before he grabbed me and flipped us over so that he was pinning me to the bed, and neither of us could stop laughing.

So yeah, we definitely had a great weekend, spent working and talking. And of course, we're also plowing through that box of condoms. I'm thinking about starting an alternative method of birth control. I mean, now that I'm having regular sex, it makes sense. Besides, the thought of _not_ using a condom, of being able to really feel him…yeah, I'm going to schedule an appointment with my doctor.

Anyway, on Monday, we were out for most of the morning, re-interviewing some of the classmates of our victim, Paul Phillips, and then we headed back to 1PP.

"Coffee?" Bobby asked me as we got off the elevator.

"More strings?" I replied with a smile.

"Maybe," he said with an innocent shrug.

"Then yeah, I'll have some."

He waggled his eyebrows at me and then stopped off in the break room while I went into the squad room. I glanced around as I took off my jacket and I saw Logan sitting at his desk. There was a mound of paperwork on top of it and to the untrained eye it might seem like he was hard at work, but he wasn't.

He was in another world, and I'm guessing it's one that includes the mysterious girlfriend, and his expression was resigned and forlorn.

"Chained to a desk?" I asked as I meandered to his vicinity.

"Looks like it."

"What'd you do?"

"I went undercover in a strip club without telling anyone."

"Funny. You could've just said you don't want to talk about it."

I was being snippy, I know, but for some reason, his comment had my hackles up.

And I don't know why. I'm not still mad at Bobby.

But maybe it's because I'm worried about what other people think about that whole incident.

Do they think I'm a doormat because I forgave him so easily?

And really, I _didn't_ forgive him easily, but we just kept the public spectacle to a minimum.

And why am I feeling so defensive about it?

"No, I'm being serious," he said, and now he looks remorseful, like he knows he's brought up a bad memory for me.

But I still find it hard to believe.

"You went undercover," I clarified. "In a strip club."

"Yeah."

"Because…"

"Well, you know that fairy tale I mentioned?"

This has something to do with a woman?

He risked his job for a woman. Bobby risked his woman for a job.

"A woman. I should've known," I replied cynically. "Bobby does it to get away from a woman. You do it to get one."

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I felt like a bitch because I know better. How many times has Bobby told me that he felt like getting his badge back was the only way he could get back to me?

"He did it to get one, too," Logan admonished. "You. You have to know that, especially by now."

I _do_ know that. God, why does mention of that undercover still send me into a tailspin?

I mean, it's obvious that even Logan gets why Bobby did it.

To be with me, because he thought the job was the only way he could be close to me.

_If he only knew…_

And maybe that's my issue.

It's with _me_.

Because if I'd just been honest with him sooner, we might've avoided that whole mess.

Even afterwards, it took _him_ being honest about his feelings before I got the nerve to speak my mind.

I've really got to let it go.

"You're right, I know," I admitted in a hushed tone. "I don't know why I have such a chip on my shoulder about that."

"Because he hurt you, and even though you're together now, you're still wondering if he might hurt you again."

Is that it? Am I afraid of being hurt?

Maybe. I've certainly given Bobby the power to do so.

"When did you get to be so smart about relationships?" I asked him, trying to lighten the tone of our conversation.

"I didn't sleep at all last night. I had time to think about things."

"You didn't sleep, and so you were thinking about me and Bobby? That sounds a little creepy," I teased.

"I was alone," he said with no small amount of sadness. "I had time to ponder life's mysteries."

"How the pyramids were built? The truth behind Stonehenge?"

"No, although I have some theories," he joked, finally breaking into a grin. "But seriously…I want you guys to meet this girl I'm seeing. And I think it'll be good for you two to do something other than work and…well, that other thing you're doing."

My face flushed without permission at his subtle reference to our sex life, but I ignored it and instead asked, "Are you moonlighting as a relationship counselor now?"

Because it's kind of strange that he's worried about the health of our relationship. Sweet, but strange. Although I _am_ curious about his girlfriend. And it would be fun to go out and be normal.

"Is that a yes or no?" he replied.

"To what?"

I heard Bobby's voice behind me and a wave of anticipation rolled through me. I'm not sure why because we're _in 1PP_ for the love of God and yet I can't help it. He's so unbelievably virile and intoxicating. His idea from last week, of us having a quickie in the supply closet, is sounding better and better, especially since we're going to be working through lunch today.

"Logan's asking me on a date," I stated.

Logan rolled his eyes at me and then looked at Bobby and explained, "With my girlfriend. And you."

"The elusive girlfriend," he replied as he smirked at me. I love that he looks so happy, but it makes me feel even more guilty for my earlier reaction to Logan's undercover talk. "I'm in. Eames?"

"It has to be somewhere…"

"Away. I get it," Logan promised. "A week from Sunday?"

I wanted to ask why not this coming weekend, but then Wheeler called him over to her desk, so Bobby and I went to ours and everyone got to work.

But my guilt was still niggling.

"I overreacted to a comment Logan made," I said after working for a few minutes in silence.

He glanced around the room briefly and then sat back and put his full focus on me.

It's a powerful thing, being the object of his attention. His gaze is so strong and unwavering and…well, _loving_. And I think maybe he looked at me like this before, too, but I just didn't recognize the emotion. Or I was too much in denial to admit it. But whatever the case, I love how me makes me feel like the world revolves around me.

"How so?" he asked quietly.

"I asked him why he's on desk duty," I explained. "And he said…that, um…he was working undercover in a strip club. And he didn't tell anyone."

"Oh. I guess that explains a lot about what's been going on with him. So what did you say?"

"Well, at first I thought he was poking fun at our situation, so I got defensive."

"He wouldn't do that."

"No, I know. And…well, I'm sorry. I don't know why I responded the way I did."

He leaned forward and his gaze softened and call it ESP or whatever but I just know that he's dying to touch me right now.

_And that makes two of us._

I'd really love to pull him into my arms and show him that I'm sorry for still carrying a grudge. Albeit a _small_ one, but still...

"Because I hurt you," he said, his voice nearly a whisper. "And the reminder of it still stings."

I nodded thoughtfully, thinking about how far we've come since that day in the back hall, when Bobby was in a holding cell and he looked at me sheepishly before asking Ross if he could fill me in. God, I was so mad.

But looking back, I realize it _doesn't_ sting anymore.

It's just something that happened, and now we're so much better than we were before.

"You know, it doesn't," I told him. "I think it was more a knee-jerk reaction."

He sat back again, a smile playing on his lips, and he said, "Are you sure? Because if it'll make you feel better, we can go in an observation room and you can tell me off again."

Now it was my turn to look around to make sure no one was listening before I replied, "If we go in an observation room, it won't be so I can yell at you."

"No?" he asked playfully.

"No, I'm thinking of a different four letter word."

"You want to…cuff me?"

I laughed at his unexpected reply and then I shrugged and said, "Yeah, that, too."

We both chuckled as we went back to work, but then he said, "Hey, Eames?"

"Yeah?" I asked as I met his gaze again, and this time I get that tingling feeling in the pit of my stomach and I can't think about anything except for how much I love him.

"Thanks for telling me."

I smiled back at him, and then he asked, "So wait, Logan was undercover in a strip club? And Ross didn't know? Why? What's that all about?"

"Something to do with the girlfriend," I answered. "I'm not sure."

"Huh," he responded as he looked past my shoulder, in the direction of Wheeler's desk. "He and Wheeler seem to be getting along a lot better these days. Are we sure it's not her?"

"The girlfriend? No, I saw the fiancé in here the other day."

"That's right," he agreed with a nod. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm looking forward to meeting her, whoever she is. He's different lately. Better different."

"So are you," I said with a smile. "I think I am, too. It's called being happy."

TBC...


	10. Chapter 10

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Alex's sister approves of me.

Logan invited us on a double date.

Ross is completely in the dark about our relationship.

And Alex bought us new cell phones.

I feel like I'm living in an alternate reality.

I mean there are still a few questions.

Alex hasn't mentioned me to her mom and dad, and I have a feeling her old man isn't going to be all that excited about the fact that Alex is now, as her sister said, _getting some on a regular basis_.

We haven't met Logan's girlfriend nor do we know anything about her, so I'm a little apprehensive about a stranger knowing our secret. But at the same time, I don't see Logan putting us at risk if he weren't sure. He must trust this woman completely, so in turn, I'm going to trust her, too.

Ross has been distracted lately because of Logan, which has helped me and Alex get through this new phase of our relationship without being under a microscope, but what's going to happen now that things are settling down? Because I can't help the way I look at her…I want her all the time, whether she's interrogating a suspect or pouring a cup of coffee or sitting behind the wheel of the SUV.

Of course, it helps that we have the new cell phones. Now we can text without worrying about who else might be reading. I love sending her dirty messages while we're at work, just to see her cheeks flush or her eyes darken or her breathing quicken.

And yeah, I know…it's not very nice of me, but I don't think she really minds. She's pretty good at getting me worked up, too, and most nights, we barely make it into my apartment before we're going at it.

And that's another thing. She's stayed with me every single night since we got back from Atlantic City, which means three straight weeks because today is Sunday.

On Friday, we picked up a new case, but it's not a hot bed, so after working all day Saturday, Ross told us to take Sunday off.

And he looked at Alex sympathetically when he said it, so I heard the unspoken addition of _you're welcome._

Three weeks ago, that look might've bothered me.

But I'm a changed man.

"_Did you see the look?"_ I asked Alex once we were in the elevator, after leaving the squad room on Saturday night.

"_You mean the one that said, __**you can thank me later for giving you twenty-four hours without your partner**__?"_ she replied with a smirk.

"_Yeah, that one_," I said as I reached out and slipped my hand beneath her hair, resting it along the side of her neck.

"_I saw it_," she said, a smile playing on her lips. "_And don't worry. I'll thank him."_

I quirked an eyebrow at her and she explained, "_For giving me twenty-four hours to make love with my partner."_

"_Is that a promise?"_

"_Well, I guess we'll have to take a break when we go on our double date tomorrow, but other than that…yeah."_

Her promise along with the accompanying scorching look had me instantly, fully hard. I buttoned my suit jacket as we exited the elevator, on the off-chance that we might run into someone on our way to the SUV, but the garage was deserted.

Which gave me another idea.

"_When can we start_?" I asked her.

"_Start what_?" she questioned, seemingly oblivious to my condition.

She put the key in the ignition, but before she could start the car, I leaned over and put my hand on her leg, boldly sliding it up the inside of her thigh as I whispered into her ear.

"_The twenty-four hours of love-making_."

She inhaled sharply as I ran my tongue along the edge of her ear, but then as she started the car, she said, "_Not here."_

"_Why not? It's late. No one's here,"_ I urged, not letting up on my assault of her ear, and my hand that was teasing along the apex of her thighs moved upwards, beneath her sweater.

"_Bobby_," she argued, but it came out as a sigh and she leaned her head back against the seat.

"_What?_" I asked as my hand enveloped her satin-clad breast.

She exhaled slowly and then turned her head to look at me.

"_What's gotten into you?"_ she asked as a slow, sexy smile spread across her face.

I love that I can surprise her with spontaneity and that she's willing to go along for the ride.

At least for a little while anyway.

"_You want me to stop?" _

She held my gaze for a moment, and the sexual tension in the car was thick and alive and I could feel how much she wanted to give in to the passion despite the fact that it would be reckless and incredibly inappropriate, but the longer we looked at each other, the more the excitement and stimulation continued to build until she finally reached for me, settling her hand against my throbbing erection as she murmured _no_ just before bringing her lips to mine.

_She doesn't want me to stop. _

Thank God…

I moved my hand from under her sweater, going back down to the heat between her thighs while at the same time, she pulled down the zipper on my pants and slid her hand inside, expertly maneuvering past the opening of my boxers until her cool, dexterous fingers came into contact with bare skin.

It was almost too much, the combined sensation of her touch and the danger of being caught…I was too close.

But I kept kissing her and rubbing my hand against her while she stroked me into a frenzy and I knew I needed to stop before I passed the point of no return right there in the front seat of the department SUV, but it just felt so damn good…

And then we heard the double-beep of someone unlocking their car door.

Somewhere close.

I was back on my side of the car and she was back on hers in a split second, and I zipped up while she cranked the defroster and then put the car in reverse.

"_Do you see anyone?"_ she asked as she backed out. I buckled my seatbelt and casually looked around the lot while on the inside, my heart was racing.

I think it was just as much from pleasure as from the possibility of getting caught.

"_No,"_ I answered, my eyes still scanning the area. "_Oh, yeah. It's Boyd, a couple of rows over. We're good."_

She took in a deep breath and then looked over at me as she came to a stop at the exit.

"_That was close."_

"_**I**__ was close,"_ I corrected with a grin. "_So maybe it's a good thing we got interrupted."_

"_You like the risk,"_ she said, her expression partly surprised and partly amused.

"_I didn't know I would, but…yeah, I think I do."_

I reached over and took her hand, lacing my fingers through hers and then resting our joined hands on her leg.

I spent the majority of the drive home trying to calm my raging libido, but then as we neared my apartment, she pulled down a side street.

"_Where are we going?"_ I asked her.

"_We have unfinished business_," she said challengingly as she parked the car.

Before I could question her, she let go of my hand and released her seatbelt and then turn towards me with purpose and said, "_Unbuckle._"

I wasn't about to argue, especially since she's in bossy-mode because I really like it when she takes control.

"_You have a condom_?" she asked as she once again unzipped my pants and even though I'd been almost back to normal, the feel of her fingers on my fly sent me straight back to my previous granite-like condition.

"_You honestly think I'd make the same mistake twice?_" I asked with a grin as I reached for my wallet.

And I don't know why it was so exciting to make love in the cramped confines of the car when my apartment is less than a block away, but…it was.

I mean, it _really_ was.

Of the forty-seven times we've made love over the course of the past three weeks, last night in the car ranks in the top five.

I think.

Although maybe not.

It seems like every time is exceptional in its own way.

And I'm not sure Alex would like the idea of me attempting to rank them anyway.

"Did he call?"

I looked up from the kitchen table, where I've been daydreaming while drinking coffee, to see Alex entering the room. She has one towel wrapped around her and another on her head, which she's using to dry her hair.

"Not yet," I answered as I opened my arms to her. She walked around the table and stood in front of me, tilting her head to one side as she continued rubbing the towel over her head.

"You should call him," she said reasonably. "If he doesn't want to meet until this evening, maybe we can go visit my parents today."

The thought makes me nervous.

Like I said, she hasn't told them about me. I mean, of course I've met them countless times over the years, but not as the man who's defiling their daughter.

"And stop worrying," she added as I pulled her down onto my lap. "You know they love you."

"Yeah, as your partner," I pointed out. "Not as the man who's burned through forty-seven condoms in three weeks."

"Forty-seven?" she asked with a smirk. "You've been keeping count?"

"It's…I'm…well, yeah," I admitted.

I'm really working hard at this open honesty thing. And it's not that I used to _lie_ to Alex, but it was more lies by omission. But I'm determined not to make the mistake of withholding information, so if it means I tell her everything that pops into my mind then so be it.

"I thought it was just women who did things like that," she replied as she dropped the extra towel and then ran her hand over my cheek. I still have the beard, since she says she likes it, and truth be told, I like the way it marks her skin.

It's a territorial thought, I know, but I can't help it. After making love to her in the mornings, I can look at her an hour later, across our desks at work and still see the telltale signs.

I have no doubt that by this point Ross has noticed, too. I've left too much evidence on her for him _not_ to have noticed.

But he'll never guess it's me.

And yeah, maybe that's a little bit of a power trip for me, too, but whatever.

"And for the record, it's forty-eight," she murmured as she leaned in to kiss me.

"I don't think so," I whispered back as I moved my lips along her jawline and down her throat.

"I know so," she countered, and then she got up from my lap and very purposefully took hold of the towel that was wrapped around her and then she pulled the two sides apart and let it fall to the floor.

Forty-seven…forty-eight…it doesn't matter. It can be ten thousand and I still can't get enough of looking at her, touching her, feeling her…

I got up and wrapped my arms around her, picking her up and then walking down the hall to the bedroom.

An hour later, I finally called Logan.

"Hello?" was the female answer.

"Um…I'm calling for Logan," I said, caught off guard by someone other than him answering his cell phone, especially at ten o'clock on Sunday morning.

Although what'd I expect? That his girlfriend doesn't sleep over?

No, I think it's something else that has my gears grinding.

"Can I have him call you right back?" she asked politely.

"Yeah, sure," I replied. "Tell him it's Goren."

"Oh, hi. Yeah, I'll have him call you. And I guess I'll see you later, right?"

"That's the plan. I'm looking forward to meeting you. I've…"

I started to say that I've heard a lot about her, but then I realized that I haven't.

He's barely said anything at all, other than that she exists.

And he went undercover to help her somehow.

In a strip club? So…that's where she works, and some kind of crime was being committed?

Or…

She laughed lightly, presumably at the fact that I stopped mid-sentence and then went into vapor lock, so I managed to say, "Sorry. Just have him call me to let me know when and where to meet."

I hung up the phone and found Alex looking at me quizzically.

"What's up?" she asked.

"I'm not sure. That was her."

"The mystery girlfriend," she said with interest. "So she's real. That's good. I was almost afraid we'd be having dinner with Logan and a blow-up doll."

I chuckled at her joke, but my mind kept going back to the innocuous conversation.

"Bobby?"

"It's…she sounds familiar, but I have no idea why. I can't place her voice."

"You think you know her?"

"Maybe. But how? I mean, are we thinking he met her in a strip club?"

"I guess," she answered with a shrug, and I have to say it. I love her lack of judgment over Logan's girlfriend's career choice. It doesn't bother me either, except for the fact that _now_ I'm bothered since I think I might know her.

Is it possible that she's from Arcadia?

Won't _that_ be awkward. Not that I dated anyone from there, because I didn't, but still….talk about a constant reminder of my undercover.

"It might be nothing," I said dismissively. My cell phone rang before she could respond, and it was Logan.

"How about this afternoon, like around four?" he asked, after telling me what he had in mind.

"Works for us. Tell me where to meet you."

He rattled off the information and then started to say goodbye, but I caught him and asked, "Hey, you've never told me her name."

"What difference does it make?"

"None at all," I said, surprised by his reluctance. "So why not just say it?"

"I'd rather wait until you meet her."

"Why?"

_Is_ it someone from Testarossa's club?

"I'll see you at four," he responded, and then he hung up.

I passed along the details to Alex and then I told her about him not wanting to tell me her name.

"We'll meet her in a few hours and then you'll know," she said easily. "Unless you're worried. You think…oh, you think she might be from Arcadia."

"Maybe," I admitted. "But what are the odds of that?"

"So those are the only strippers you know?" she asked with a barely contained smile.

"Yes," I answered.

"And did you ever hook up with any of them?"

"No," I said firmly. "I was in love with you, so why would I do that?"

"Men do that kind of thing," she said, rolling her eyes dramatically as she shook her head. "Bobby, relax. If you know her, then you know her. Although…"

"What?"

She smiled sweetly and patted me on the cheek as she said, "If it's an ex-girlfriend, and she looks like she wants to rekindle, well…then I might have to pull my gun."

TBC...


	11. Chapter 11

**Alex POV**

* * *

"Are you ready?"

I looked up at Bobby expectantly as I awaited his response.

He trimmed his beard this morning, and he's dressed in blue jeans and a dark green and black striped shirt, with a black t-shirt underneath. He looks rugged and manly and sexy as hell and I'm already counting the minutes until I can get him alone again.

Who knew it would be like this?

I mean seriously…he wasn't so far off with his tease of me being an insatiable nymphomaniac. Although I'm going to blame it entirely on him because I was certainly never like this before.

"As ready as I'm going to be," he replied as he looked down at himself and nervously ran a hand over the front of his shirt.

"It's going to be fine," I assured him, settling my hand on top of his.

"And if it's not?"

I can appreciate his apprehension. I've got a few butterflies myself.

But still…it won't be the end of the world if it doesn't go as I hope.

"Then we won't have to worry about attending any family dinners," I said easily.

Earlier, after making plans with Logan for four o'clock, I pointed out that we would have plenty of time to catch up with my parents for lunch.

"_But it'll take at least forty-five minutes to get there,"_ Bobby said after I made the suggestion.

_There_.

Our double-date destination.

"_It's only ten o'clock,"_ I reminded him. "_We'll meet my parents at noon, finish by two, and that'll give us an hour to come back here and…__**whatever**__ and then leave at three."_

"_Whatever?"_ he asked as a half-smile played on his lips.

"_Well, I figure I'll need to reward you after spending two hours with my parents,"_ I replied.

I might need a reward, too. Not that I don't love my parents, because I do, but still…I'm just hoping that my dad is on his best behavior. My mom, too. Sometimes she's worse than he is.

And I was tempted to procrastinate…maybe wait another few weeks to tell them, but my conscience has gotten the best of me, especially since I'm practically living with Bobby now.

_Practically_, I thought with a mental eye roll.

I haven't been back to my place in a week, and even then it was only to grab my mail and more clean clothes.

"_Do I get to pick my reward_?" Bobby asked playfully, obviously warming up to the idea of spending some time with my parents.

"_Of course_," I agreed without hesitation.

So I called my parents and arranged to meet them at noon in a little café on Staten Island. It's one of my dad's favorite places to go, and it's also about the last place in the world I'd expect to run into Ross, so I figured it's a win-win.

"You can't avoid your family if they don't approve of our relationship," Bobby reasoned in response to my remark about boycotting family get-togethers if my parents are rude.

"Watch me," I promised, and then I added with forced confidence, "But I'm sure it won't come to that."

We went into the café and I scanned the room briefly before spotting my parents at a corner table.

They were talking to each other as we headed in their direction and we were nearly to the table before my dad looked up. He broke into a grin and got up from the table.

"There she is," he said as he pulled me into a hug. "The best cop in New York."

"Dad…"

"Sorry. The best _detective_," he amended cheerfully.

"I didn't know you were working today, honey," my mom said, eyeing Bobby as she stood up. I moved past my dad, who reached out to shake Bobby's hand, and my mother quickly threw her arms around me.

"Good to see you, Bobby," I heard my dad say as I responded to my mother, "I'm not."

"Oh?" she questioned as the obligatory hugging came to an end and everyone sat down.

"No," I answered.

My mother stared at me for several seconds while I silently begged her not to say something stupid, and then she shifted her gaze to Bobby.

"Well, I'm glad you decided to tag along, Bobby," she remarked as she picked up a menu. "After all, you only get to see Alex…what, six or seven days a week while we're lucky to see her once a month?"

And there it is. Passive-aggressive at its best.

I felt Bobby stiffen beside me, but I put my hand on his thigh in an effort to keep him relaxed.

We're too happy. There's no way I'm going to let my mother ruin it. The funny thing is that I was expecting cynicism from my father more so than her.

_Although maybe she's just ticked at me for not visiting more often,_ I decided.

And if that's it, then fine, but she's not going to take out her annoyance with me on Bobby.

"He's not tagging along. I invited him," I corrected firmly.

"I see," she said stiffly.

"You see what?" I pressed as my temper began to build. Bobby put his hand over top of mine, where it was still resting on his thigh. I guess he decided that maybe I'm the one who needs comforting.

"You blew off the last three family dinners, claiming that you had to work. It takes you days to return my calls. Last month, I set you up with that nice boy who moved in down the block and you stood him up, probably just to spite me, and…"

"What's your point, Mom?" I interrupted. "What does any of that have to do with you being rude to Bobby?"

"I'm just saying," she retorted. "You don't want to have anything to do with us anymore."

"I called you today, didn't I? I'm here, even though you seem determined to fight."

"And you brought your partner. Why? So you can fake the need to go to work in order to leave lunch early?"

"Mary," my dad said sternly.

"But you know what?" she continued as if my father hadn't said anything. "I don't really think it's _us_ you're upset with. I think it's your life. You work all the time and I'm the only one honest enough to point it out to you that there's more to life than that damn job, Alex. And what kind of mother would I be if I sit back and do nothing while you let life pass you by? You have to get out there and…"

"Mary," my dad said again, finally catching her attention.

"What?"

My dad stared at her hard for a moment and then turned to look at me and then Bobby and then me again.

"She already said she's not working today. And that she invited Bobby," he said as a ghost of a smile passed over his lips. "Don't you want to know why?"

"Why what?" Mom asked him as she regarded him with irritation, probably for his interruption of her tirade.

But he kept looking at me and I know he knows.

_Detective skills run in the family_.

Because even though I'm touching Bobby, it's below the table, and our shoulders aren't even touching as we sit next to each other in the booth and it's not like I've never brought him with me to family things in the past.

But he's still sensing the difference about this particular time.

"Alex?" he prompted.

"Yeah, um…"

_For the love of God, I'm forty-three years old and I can't seem to tell my parents that I have a boyfriend, _I thought in annoyance, so I bit the bullet and just said it.

"Bobby and I are dating."

It was a little before two when we left the café.

"Is it wrong that I'm glad that's over?" I asked as Bobby put his arm around me, hugging me to him as we walked towards the car.

"It wasn't bad. Honestly, the scenarios in my mind were a whole lot worse."

"That's not surprising," I teased. "And yeah, it could've been worse. I thought my dad would be more upset with me for breaking the rules."

"Instead it's your mom who isn't sure about me."

"She just needs to let it sink in," I assured him, although I'm not a hundred percent sure that's true.

Her response?

"_Another cop? Alex, have you completely lost your mind?"_

"_Mom, you married a cop_," I reminded her, shocked that she would bring up Joe so quickly.

"_And I worried every single day while he was at work. Why would you put yourself through that again?"_

"_Because I love him,"_ I answered decisively, and that shut her up.

"She just worries about me," I told Bobby as I unlocked the car. "It's not about you. She likes you. She just doesn't want to see me hurt."

"Neither do I," he said, and then before I could walk around to the driver's side, he trapped me against the car with his body. "So do I get my reward now?"

"What do you want?"

"You," he said sweetly as he rested his palm against my cheek.

"You already have me. Be more specific," I encouraged coyly.

"You…_forever_," he amended, and then he slowly leaned in and captured my lips and oh my God…the white hot flood of pleasure that rolled through me was intense and all-consuming, and it has just as much to do with his words as his devastating kiss.

Forever.

I really love the sound of that.

Two hours after leaving the diner on Staten Island, we felt the subway train rumble to a stop at our destination.

During those two hours, we drove from the café to my apartment in Forest Hills so that I could do my weekly gathering of mail and clothes, and then we stopped at the market before going back to Bobby's place.

"_We need bread_," I commented as we wandered through the aisles. "_And coffee. Bananas."_

The domesticity of it wasn't lost on me.

"_Whipped cream_," he added.

"_For what?"_

He smirked at me as he directed us towards the dairy section.

"_Is that for me or you?"_ I questioned in amusement as he snagged a can of Reddi-Whip.

I expected him to make a joke about it, but instead he spent the next several minutes detailing what he had in mind.

Unfortunately, we didn't have time to follow through. Not yet anyway. By the time we got back to his apartment and put the groceries away, and found room for my clothes in his closet, it was time to head to the subway station.

Of course, that didn't stop him from torturing me during the forty-five minute train ride.

"_I can taste it already,"_ he whispered as we sat sandwiched together on the train.

"_Taste what?"_

"_The whipped cream on your skin."_

I usually have a response for everything, but his provocative comment rendered me speechless as my mind focused on conjuring up the image to go along with his words.

"_You're thinking about it, aren't you?"_ he asked after a moment.

"_Yes."_

"_Good_," he said smugly.

I love that he's in such a great mood. I think the fact that the lunch with my parents is out of the way, and it wasn't a disaster, has loosened him up even more than he was before.

And tonight should be a lot of fun, spending some down-time with Logan and his fairy tale woman.

And then of course _later_, when we get back home…

Anyway, we exited the train at Coney Island.

I haven't been here since I was a kid, but for some reason this is where Logan suggested we meet.

It's an odd choice and yet I like it.

People and beach and food and beer and virtual anonymity.

Although it's less crowded now than it surely was even just a few weeks ago because the days are getting shorter and colder, but still…it's a beautiful night.

We walked down the block and over to the boardwalk and I spotted Logan, with his phone to his ear, leaning against a post. He was staring down the boardwalk, so it gave me a moment to look him over and I'm not ashamed to say that's exactly what I did.

Not because of any sexual interest but because I _do_ really like him and he seems to have been on a roller coaster lately.

And something major happened at work on Friday because he and Ross spent a considerable amount of time behind closed doors.

But whatever happened seems to agree with him because I've never seen him more relaxed and content.

He's dressed in jeans and a dark blue Henley shirt and as he's talking, he's still staring intently off into the distance and he has a smile on his face.

"Good for you," he was saying, once we got close enough to hear. "Do I get details?"

Then he started laughing as he said, "No, Wheeler…come on, I was kidding!"

"Wheeler?" Bobby said under his breath. We came to a stop several feet away from Logan so as not to interrupt his conversation.

"It's not her," I replied.

"How do you know?"

"Is she who you heard on the phone this morning?"

"Well, no."

"Besides, he'd call her Megan, don't you think? Not Wheeler."

"Yeah, you're exactly right, _Eames_."

"Ha ha," I replied as I nudged him with my hip. "Undercover in a strip club, remember? I'm guessing her name will be something like Amber or Tiffany or Laci with an _i_."

"Are you being pretentious?" he asked on a laugh.

"I don't care if her name is Fluffy as long as she treats him right."

"Hey, Wheeler," Logan said as he finally caught sight of us. "I need to run, but we'll do it, okay? I think he's due for more serious vetting now that you're…well, you know. Being a guy about it."

He laughed again and then added, "I've got all the time in the world. Call me after work tomorrow. C and I will meet you two wherever."

He hung up and shoved his phone in his pocket, glancing again down the boardwalk and then walking over to us.

"C?" I asked as he shook Bobby's hand. He hesitated briefly and then gave me a hug, which took me by surprise and yet I'm okay with it.

"Eavesdropping, Eames?"

"I'm a detective," I replied with a smirk. "So…where is she?"

"She's putting our name in with the hostess. She'll be back in a minute," he said, and as he spoke, he turned around again, presumably to look for her, and since I don't know _who_ I'm looking for, I watched his face instead, and I knew the minute he saw her.

So then I shifted my attention to the woman walking towards us.

I was expecting flashy.

Bold.

Overtly _female_.

A stripper.

But what I got was Carolyn Barek.

"It's Barek?" I asked in astonishment. "Why didn't you just say so? And why the misdirection with the strip club?"

"And Wheeler knows?" Bobby questioned, joining in my interrogation. "Logan…"

"Throw in a dead body and this'll feel just like old times," I finished as Carolyn approached, so that it was the two of them standing together, facing the two of us.

"It's great to see you guys," Carolyn said with an amused smile. "Bobby, Mike wouldn't tell me who your date was, but I'm really glad to see it's Alex."

So Logan kept our secret, even from her.

The better I get to know him, the more I like him.

"Yeah, well it's about damn time I stop keeping so many secrets," Logan said with a grin. "So now it's all out there. Goren and Eames are sleeping together…me and Barek are sleeping together…and no dead bodies tonight, alright? Let's just have dinner and a few drinks and enjoy ourselves. And I'll fill in all the blanks."

TBC...


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Thank you, Claire, for beta'ing while on vacation :) And thank you, Heather, for your x-rated suggestion!**

* * *

**Bobby POV**

* * *

"Hi, Bobby…it's…um…it's me."

That was the message on my old-school answering machine when Alex and I got home on Sunday night.

It put an instant damper on the night, which kind of pissed me off because we had _such_ a great time just being regular people.

_Happy_ regular people.

At the restaurant, Logan did as he promised, filling in the blanks.

Carolyn had been working for the FBI, undercover in a called strip club called Winky's when Logan bumped into her.

"_I was supposed to be in there looking for a lowlife drug dealer but then I saw her from across the room…"_ he told us.

"_Only he didn't know it was me,"_ she finished.

"_Oh, it was you in my mind,"_ he explained and then he looked at me and said, "_You remember the first time you saw the pictures of Eames from her Vice days, right?"_

Of course I remember.

She looked so unbelievably hot and sexy and yet she was still _Eames_, which means I wanted her as much for her mind as for her body.

"_Yes_," I answered without hesitation while Alex looked at me curiously. I shrugged and smiled as I said, "_Should I apologize for appreciating the way you look in a mini-skirt?"_

"_No,_" she said with a roll of her eyes. She and Carolyn shared a look as Logan continued.

"_Anyway, you can just imagine how I felt when I realized that it really was her."_

Apparently it was love at first sight. Or second sight, I guess. Or maybe it _was_ first sight, but it took the two-year separation before they understood it.

Because to me, it seems like things have moved awfully fast with them, for there not to have already been strong feelings.

Just like with me and Alex.

It's only been three weeks and yet it feels like it's been a lifetime.

In a good way, I mean.

"_So I just got back last night_," Carolyn said, concluding their tag-team recount of the past month's events.

"_You couldn't talk to each other for two weeks_?" Alex remarked as she shifted her gaze from Carolyn to Logan. "_That must've been hard. No wonder you were looking like shit."_

"_Thank you,"_ Logan said with a wry grin. He put his arm around Carolyn's shoulders and hugged her to him as he added, "_And yeah_, _it was damn near impossible. I can't tell you how many times I got in the car with the intent of driving to Quantico."_

"_Probably about as many times as I thought about quitting and hitching a ride back to New York,"_ she said.

"_But you __**did**__ quit_," Alex pointed out. "_Why go through it if you planned to leave anyway?"_

"_It was…good for me, I think_," Carolyn stated vaguely.

And I get what she's saying. I wasn't undercover for very long and yet it's so easy to get sucked in by the life.

She was inside for two years.

That kind of thing can take its toll on a person.

"_And a week in St. Kitts will be good for me, too_," she added as she smiled at Logan.

"_When are you leaving?"_

"_Saturday_," he answered.

"_And Ross really approved the vacation time after all the trouble you've been in lately?" _I joked.

"_Yeah, well…it's part of my notice,"_ he answered.

Not what I was expecting to hear.

"_Your notice?"_

"_I quit. Friday. Officially, I'm still on the payroll until the end of the month, since I had time built up, but after that…"_

"_Are you kidding me?_" Alex said in surprise. _"Is it because of Ross?"_

"_No, he actually came through for us in the end. He backed me up with the FBI and he gave me and Wheeler the leeway we needed to help Carolyn close out her case."_

"_It's Driver,"_ I stated with a nod. It's no secret he's been butting heads with the power-hungry ADA.

"_It's everything,"_ he explained with nonchalance. "_But you know what? I'm good with it. We'll spend a week in paradise and then come back here and start fresh."_

I admire his attitude. Would I be so at ease with the idea of being unemployed?

_With Alex by my side, yes I would_, I decided. And he looks every bit as in love with Carolyn as I am with Alex.

"_How'd Wheeler take the news?"_ Alex asked him. "_In fact, what's going on with her fiancé? I heard a rumor that he was arrested."_

"_Oh yeah, that's true,"_ Logan confirmed. _"And she's done with him."_

"_Losing her partner and her fiancé in the same week," _I commiserated. "_How's she holding up?"_

Logan smiled and said, "_I think maybe I taught her a thing or two over the past few weeks. She'll be just fine. Besides, I haven't left her high and dry. We're friends. We'll keep in touch. I would've asked her to come out with us tonight if it weren't for that business of you two being on the down-low."_

"_You trust her?"_ I asked.

"_Yes,_" he answered earnestly. "_Absolutely."_

"_Then maybe next time you should invite her,"_ I said. "_I mean, we figured it wouldn't hurt for there to be one person in 1PP who knows about us, but I guess that's not you anymore so it might as well be Wheeler, right?" _

"_It's going to be strange there without you,_" Alex said to him.

"_Good strange?"_ he asked.

She smirked and said, "_No. Who's going to point out my hickeys and check out my ass?"_

"_Oh, um…that's my job,"_ I said with a grin.

We spent several hours at dinner, laughing and talking and getting to know Carolyn again.

Afterwards, we walked down the boardwalk to an open-air bar, where we sat in the cool night air and had a few drinks. It was nearly midnight when we settled our tab.

"_I guess we should be heading back_," I said. "_Some of us have to go to work in the morning."_

"_Poor bastards,"_ Logan replied with a huge smile on his face. I guess he really _is_ okay with not coming back to Major Case. He just looks happy.

We said our goodbyes, with the promise of catching up again soon, and then Alex and I headed for the subway station.

"_I wasn't kidding about it being weird without him there,"_ she said to me once we were seated on the subway, and her head was against my shoulder. "_I know he's only been there for a few years, but he's grown on me."_

"_Me, too. Don't worry – we'll be sure to keep in touch."_

"_And Carolyn…I just can't believe it's her,"_ she said. "_Did you see anything between them when they worked together?"_

"_I was too busy trying to figure out what you thought of me," _I admitted.

"_I was in love with you."_

"_Now see, if I'd known that __**then**__, maybe I could've focused on the status of Logan's relationship,"_ I teased.

"_Or maybe it works out better this way,"_ she said softly. "_All the way around. We went through what we did to get where we are, and we're all in a good place, so…why wish it could've been any different?"_

Wise words.

Ones I'm trying to remember now as I pick up the phone to return the call to my brother.

_**Don't bother leaving a number – I won't call you back. **_

That's what Frank's outgoing message states.

Sounds about right.

I think I know why he called earlier and it should make me glad that he remembered, but at the same time, I'm just so sick of that part of my life. Maybe that makes me a bad person, I don't know, but is it so wrong that I just want to focus on Alex and work and my friends and forget about every messed up thing that used to plague my life?

"No answer?" Alex asked as I hung up the phone and then sat down heavily in the kitchen chair.

"No."

"It's late. Maybe he's asleep."

"Or he's out trying to score," I posed.

"You've tried to help him, but you can't change who he is," she said rationally.

"I know."

"And it's good that he called, right?"

I looked at her questioningly and she added, "You think it's because your mom's birthday is coming up on Friday, don't you? I mean, maybe he wants to get together with you."

"You remembered her birthday," I marveled as I pulled her down onto my lap.

"Of course I do," she replied, resting her cheek against my chest.

"Yeah, well we might be giving Frank too much credit to think he called because of that."

"Maybe."

I began stroking my hand over her hair as my mind wandered to thoughts of my mother.

And then I remembered that Alex and I are supposed to be halfway through a can of whipped cream by now and instead I've turned melancholy.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly as I kissed the top of her head. "It's been such a great night and now I'm…"

"Sad? Bobby, you're allowed to feel."

"I know, but you know how I get sometimes."

"And you think what? That I won't love you if you're not smiling?"

"I just don't want you to think that you don't make me happy."

"I know I do," she said confidently. "Just like you do for me."

"Are you sure?"

"You have to ask?"

No, I don't.

We sat together in the darkness of the kitchen for a while…nearly an hour maybe, and then we got up and went to bed.

Monday morning came early, after our late night, but there's something about waking up with Alex in my arms that makes me feel like I can handle anything life throws at me.

"Message for you, Detective!" the desk sergeant called out to me as I passed by. I was by myself because Alex drove the SUV into the parking garage while I walked the last few blocks to work. She'll meet me upstairs because it's not like we can show up together.

Or I guess we _could_ because we've done it before, back when we weren't sleeping together, but maybe now we're just being more careful.

I paused and snagged the message and then continued towards the elevator as I opened the piece of paper.

_**Pick me up on Friday and we'll go together.**_

_Or you could answer your damn phone and we could talk about it_, I thought in annoyance as I shoved the paper in my pocket.

And yes, it's what I had in mind anyway.

And yes, I'm impressed that Frank remembers Mom's birthday.

But it ticks me off that he just floats in and out of my life and then has the expectation that I'll do whatever he says.

"You were slow," Alex said under her breath. She was coming out of the break room just as I was passing by. "I fixed the coffee."

"Thanks."

"There might be strings," she said lightheartedly.

"Good," I replied, and I forced myself to smile because I'm not going to let Frank ruin my day. Or my life.

I'll do this thing with him on Friday and then he can crawl back under his rock until next year.

"Frank left me a message," I said as we sat down at our desks. I want to quit thinking about him, but I also need to bring her up to speed.

"He called?"

"The switchboard," I explained. "He left it with the desk sergeant."

"That's odd, even for Frank," she commented. "Why not just call your cell phone?"

"Who knows why he does anything he does?" I replied rhetorically. "Anyway, I guess I'm going to pick him up on Friday and go to the cemetery."

"I think that's a great idea."

"You do?"

"Yeah," she said, regarding me curiously.

"I mean, just me and him. And it's not that I don't want you there, but…"

"Bobby," she interrupted quietly, looking around as she leaned across her desk. "We don't have to do everything together. And going to your mom's grave, on her birthday…I think that's something for you and your brother. And afterwards…well, I'll be waiting for you."

I stared at her for a moment as I wondered what on earth I did to deserve a woman like her. I mean, she gets me. Completely.

I nodded and flashed her a smile, wanting to tell her how much I love her, but I just can't push it that much…not here where someone might overhear.

She smiled back and then picked up the autopsy report and went to work. I pulled up the credit reports and started working, too, but after a minute, my phone buzzed.

_**I love you.**_

That's the text message she sent me.

I smiled, leaning back in my chair as I typed a reply.

_**Does that mean you want to take me in the other room and…cuff me?**_

And just like that, we were back to being us.

We spent all day Monday and Tuesday in the squad room, scanning LUDs and credit reports, the autopsy report and lab work. And of course, texting back and forth. For the most part, I shoved Frank out of my mind, although during down-time, I couldn't keep from thinking about my mother.

"What's on your mind?" Alex asked me Wednesday night after work as we sat on the couch together, eating take-out. "You're quiet."

And this is the proof of how much I've changed: my forthright response came without hesitation.

"I'm just…I don't know. I've been thinking about my mom a lot this week. It makes me wish that we'd been together when she was alive so that she could've seen me happy."

"But she thought we were together, didn't she?" she asked with a smile.

"You know about that?" I replied sheepishly. My mom _did_ think Alex and I were dating. Probably because I talked about her so much.

And I guess I perpetuated her misconception because I wanted so badly for it to be true.

"I'm glad she thought that about us," she remarked as she took my empty plate from my hand. She set hers and mine on the coffee table and then snuggled up next to me, running her hand over my chest in a soothing manner.

But then my landline rang, the noise shattering our quiet moment, and my stomach filled with dread because I just knew it was Frank.

I reluctantly got up from the couch and went into the kitchen to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Bobby," he said. "It's me."

"Yeah, I know, Frank. So Friday, right?"

"Yeah. Look, I need some money. Can you float me a loan?"

_Don't beat around the bush, Frank._

"How much?" I asked as I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes.

"A few hundred. Five. Six, maybe."

"You need six hundred dollars? For what?"

He hesitated for a minute and then said, "Can you give it to me or not?"

"We'll talk about it Friday. I'll give you a call when I leave work."

I hung up with him and found Alex lingering in the doorway.

"He wants money?"

"Big surprise, huh? I'm sure it's a great coincidence for him that Friday is Mom's birthday, so he has the perfect opportunity to hit me up."

"I can help, if you want," she offered.

"With money? No, I'm not giving it to him."

"You think it's for drugs? A loan shark, maybe?"

"I have no idea, but I'm not opening that door, okay? End of discussion."

I made the statement much more sharply than I intended, my frustration with Frank coming out towards Alex. She stared at me for a minute and then nodded and turned around, leaving me alone in the kitchen.

"Alex, wait. I'm sorry," I said as I went after her. She stopped halfway down the hall and turned to look at me. I was expecting reproach or anger, but I got neither.

"Don't be sorry. I shouldn't have pushed."

"You didn't. I'm just…"

I trailed off and exhaled heavily and as I stood there feeling like a complete jackass, she stepped up close and wrapped her arms around me.

"It's okay," she said softly. "He gets under your skin. I get it."

"You do," I said in amazement as I hugged her tightly against me. "God, I love you."

"I know," she said, and I could feel her smile against my chest. "I love you, too. Through everything. Did you honestly think it'd be smooth sailing from here on out? I mean, you said you want me forever, right?"

"Yes, I do."

"Well, that's a long time, so…it's not always going to be whipped cream and sexting."

I never would've guessed that she could have me laughing so quickly after my surly outburst, but her comment had me chuckling.

It also had me going back to the kitchen to retrieve the can of Reddi-Whip. I mean, she's right. It won't always be like this, but it is right now, so why not enjoy it?

And let me tell you, I _thoroughly_ enjoyed it. Every delicious taste. The whipped cream was pretty good, too.

And that night, I slept soundly until the alarm went off at six-thirty on Thursday morning.

I turned it off and realized that I was alone in the bed.

_But she's here somewhere and that's all I need to know. _

I stretched out, lying on my back and staring at the ceiling as I took a moment to gather my thoughts for the day.

We're close to solving our case. I think another round of interviews might trip up one of our two main suspects.

I need to call Logan today, too. Or I don't need to, but I want to. He'll be leaving on Saturday and I'm probably going to be busy tomorrow, so I want to touch base with him before he goes.

And I want to buy something for Alex. Saturday marks one month since we first got together and I think the occasion needs memorializing. A nice dinner, maybe dancing. And jewelry.

A noise at the doorway caught my attention and I looked over to see Alex coming into the room. She was holding two cups of coffee, wearing only my blue button-down shirt from yesterday. It hangs almost to her knees and she only bothered to do the middle couple of buttons and her hair is messy from sleep…beautiful just doesn't suffice.

She paused for a moment, looking at me with an inscrutable expression on her face and then she went over to the dresser and set down the cups of coffee.

"You okay?" I asked since she still hasn't said a word, but then she turned back to me and reached for the covers, shoving them onto the floor as she looked me over with predatory purpose.

My mouth went dry as she got onto the bed, moving over me on her hands and knees. I snaked one hand beneath her shirt, but she stopped and took me by the wrist, pulling my hand away as she shook her head, and then she put both hands on my cheeks and kissed me hungrily.

I wanted to reach for her again but I held back, waiting to see what she was going to do next.

And what she did…mother of God.

After the kiss, she started moving her way down my body, kissing my neck, my chest, my stomach, until she was on her knees between my legs and for a moment she just _looked_ and I thought my heart was going to explode in my chest just from the anticipation and then finally she leaned down…close, but not quite touching me…I could feel her breath over me and every muscle in my body was clenched tightly as the seconds dragged on until at last she pressed her tongue against me…lightly and teasingly, again and again, making me moan and beg for more.

Just when I thought I couldn't stand another second of the sweet torture, she upped her game to the point where I couldn't do anything but breathe and feel. I had the fleeting thought that I should warn her of how close I am, but she knows…of _course_ she knows, but she didn't let up.

An indeterminable amount of time later, after I shouted her name in an embarrassingly loud voice, she looked up at me and flashed me a smug smile.

"Um…I'm sorry?" she said.

"You're…um…what?" I managed to say, because I have no idea where she's going with that and I can barely even string two words together at the moment.

"For attacking you. I was thinking about doing that ever since I woke up this morning, so…"

Ah…

Now I've got it.

"Lucky for me I was in the vicinity," I quipped as she stretched out on top of me. I wrapped my arms around her and we relaxed together for a moment and then I said with no small amount of disinclination, "We're going to be late if we don't get going."

"Yeah, but it might be worth it just to see the look on your face when Ross asks you why," she teased.

"Ha ha," I retorted lightly as we finally got up from the bed. "If he asks, I'll just be honest. _Captain, I'm late because Alex gives the most incredible blow-"_

"I dare you," she fired back, interrupting my descriptive and laughing as we headed for the shower. "Seriously, go ahead and tell him."

Okay, so I didn't tell him.

But it sure was a hell of a way to start the day.

And the rest of Thursday turned out to be pretty good, too. Very productive. In fact, I think we'll wrap up our case fairly early tomorrow, maybe even before lunch.

_More time for Frank,_ I reminded myself.

Actually, maybe that means I'll have time to jewelry shop afterwards, before catching back up with Alex. I'd really like to surprise her with something nice.

As we left 1PP on Thursday night, we decided to leave the SUV in the garage and instead take the subway home, so we exited the building through the front doors, and that's where we ran into Wheeler.

"I saw Carolyn last weekend," Alex commented as she looked at our colleague approvingly. "So you knew about her and Logan all along, huh?"

"Not all along," she corrected. "But close. Although he didn't have much choice about coming clean with me. Once I saw them together…"

"Hard to hide true love, isn't it?" I said as I tried to hold back a smile. She looked at me inquisitively for a moment, and then Alex asked, "When are you supposed to get a new partner?"

"Soon, I think. I'm not crazy about it, but I understand why Logan was ready to leave."

I nodded thoughtfully and then shifted my attention to a car that had pulled up alongside the curb. A guy in a suit got out of the driver's side and looked in our direction.

His look screams _fed_ and for a minute, I was curious as to his business at 1PP, but then Wheeler caught sight of him and smiled broadly.

"Oh, there's my ride," she said. "I'll see you two tomorrow."

"Sure. Hey, maybe when Carolyn gets back from her vacation, the three of us can get together for drinks," Alex suggested.

Wheeler looked surprised by the invitation, but she nodded and said, "Um…yeah, okay. I'd like that."

She said goodbye and then turned and walked over to the guy, who was still standing next to his car, and we shamelessly watched for a minute as she kissed him hello.

"Come on," Alex said, chucking me with her elbow. "I'm in the mood for filet tonight."

"Spark's?" I asked as we walked down the sidewalk.

"Nope," she responded with a grin. And we were too close to 1PP for any hand-holding or kissing, but the electricity is still there between us.

"I'm glad Wheeler shed that dead-weight loser and found a nice guy."

"How do we know he's nice?"

"You heard Logan on the phone Sunday night. He was encouraging her. I certainly never saw him do that when James Bond was hanging around."

"Good point," I agreed. "I guess everyone gets to be happy, right?"

"That's the way it should work," she replied softly. "Missteps happen, but that's what it should come down to in the end."

"You think that's us, too?"

"Don't you?"

"I just…worry. I can't help it. It's ingrained in me to consider worst-case scenarios."

By this point, we were several blocks from the police station, but still too close to risk touching each other. But Alex ducked into a bookstore, not saying anything until we were lost amongst the rows of books.

"I get that you worry about Frank. And that you miss your mom. And that you've had all kinds of other things go wrong in your life," she began quietly as she stood facing me. She stepped close and took both of my hands in hers as she continued, "But you never have to worry about _me_. You trust me, right?"

"Absolutely."

"Then trust that no matter what happens, I'm not going anywhere. We'll fight and you'll be a jerk and I'll be bitchy and then we'll make up, okay? We'll always make up. Because we deserve to be happy, and I don't know about you, but as far as I'm concerned, I'm only going to find happiness with you."

I pulled her into my arms, holding her close as I said, "Me, too. And thank you. I know I've been off this week…"

"You've been you. And I love you."

"I love you, too."

We kissed for several minutes in the back of the store as together we chased the doubts from my mind, and then she stepped back and smiled at me.

"Ready to go?"

"Uh huh," I agreed and, deciding to chance being seen, I took hold of her hand as we left the store. "So you think I'll be a jerk, huh?"

She laughed and answered, "I'm sure of it. But I'm pretty sure I'll be bitchy, too, so…"

She shrugged and trailed off, but I get her point.

I let go of her hand and put my arm around her instead, holding her against me as we walked down the sidewalk.

"So, where to?" I asked, my mood suddenly light again.

_I can't help but be happy when I'm with her,_ I realized.

"Up to you. Take-out or eat-in?"

"Take-out," I decided. "Let's get something from Sal's, and we can pick up a bottle of wine…"

"And whipped cream," she added with a suggestive smile.

I laughed and said, "We still have some left."

"Yeah, but I'd hate to run out before I do everything I have planned."

_This is going to be a good night._

Or rather, _another_ good night.

Because they've all been pretty damn good since that first night in Atlantic City.

"So…" she prompted as she looked up at me with a playful smile on her face.

Really there's only one appropriate response for a moment like this.

I tucked her closer to me and replied, "Whipped cream it is."

**The End**


End file.
